


Of Ships and Scales

by JackTheSoldier



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Historical RPF
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fantasy AU, Flashbacks, M/M, i might include an oc but, it may not make sense but its historical fiction so it doesnt have to, its gay, johns life is sadder than i originally meant it to be, maybe not, some gay trio, the fantasy au i started on my tumblr, theres a Lot Of Gay, things dont go as planned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-01-04 10:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 31,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18341405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackTheSoldier/pseuds/JackTheSoldier
Summary: John Laurens, son of Henry Laurens, never intended to go this far from the mainland. Begging to join the crew of his father's ship, his wish was finally granted and treated like the king. Then they were attacked. John is taken aboard the Philadelphia, a British prison ship, and meets Abraham Woodhull and Nathan Hale. He escapes with their help, with information, and leaves to go find the Continental Navy.He never intended to go this far from the mainland. Not far enough to see mermaids.





	1. The Beautiful Navy

To be honest, John never really liked his father. Being stationed on Charleston to get away from him was like a dream. It was beautiful. Glorious. The biggest ship in all of the Laurens family’s possessions. He was treated like a prince, mostly because he assumed the crew knew his father would punish them all if they mistreated his oldest son. 

But once the ship was captured by the British Navy, John knew it was all over with this luxury. 

He was pulled into the hull of the ship and with the prisoners and forced to hear the screams of agony from his crewmates as they were slaughtered and the ship he’d called home was burned. His only hope of rescue now, he thought, was his father paying the ransom for him. But John wasn’t worth that much to his father. 

Two months in the cargo hold of the ship. Then, a golden-haired boy with a friendly face was thrown down to keep him company. After a short introduction, John learned his name was Nathan Hale, and he was caught for spying on the British from the ship they were currently on, which was called The Philadelphia. 

Nathan knew a man on the ship, thankfully, who was soon to be transferred to The New York, another British ship. His name was Abe Woodhull, but as Nathan called him, Samuel Culper. John was trusted with Nathan’s book of information he’d gotten on the British in exchange for his escape. 

Abraham helped John escape in a rowboat full of supplies and he was told to go westward, follow the sun. 

He did. 

After three days and still nothing, John was dehydrated and sick and sending up prayers to the Lord to free him from this hell. His boat was falling apart. The oars he had were splitting in half, and he’d tried futilely to tie them together and keep everything together. Perhaps this was a death sentence. Hale and Woodhull must have been tricks to send John to his death. 

On his fourth day at sea, he passed out, arm dangling in the water. Fish nibbled at it and he swore he was going to die here, alone and starving. 

Alex had always loved it when he had time to go collect items. A boat was a rare find, but he had found a rowboat. Fish and other creatures had gathered around the safe haven and were examining the arm hanging from the boat. 

Alexander didn’t want to see a dead body right now, but all the good things were bound to be in the inside of the boat. He decided to waste time examining the colors and different materials of the rowboat. It had been patched up with different planks than it was originally built with, and the oars were splitting apart. A beat up find, but a good one nonetheless. 

It was a creaking and shifting of the boat that startled him. He was used to it, following a fleet of his captain’s large ships, but why would this one move?

The arm moved and pulled back into the boat, and Alex lifted his head above the water to see what was going on. He was welcomed with the sight of a beautiful man with tan skin and bright blue eyes and blond hair. 

The man got sight of him and startled, shifting to the other side of the boat. Alex grabbed the edge of it and tried to pull himself up inside of it. 

“Oh... I must be dreaming. I know I am,” the man mumbled and shifted away from Alex, who heaved into the boat and brought his brightly colored, shimmering tail with him. He glared at this boy, who was clearly human, and started to shift through the two crates of things he had in his boat. 

John had seen a mermaid. His wife on land was, after all, and had given up her tail to be his wife. He didn’t love her though, and was forced into marriage with Martha by his father. He’d had to drink a lot of alcohol on their wedding night to even consider sleeping with her. Last he had heard, she had given birth to John’s daughter, Frances Eleanor Laurens. He just... This merman was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. Red hair, freckles, and indescribable eyes. A glorious pink and blue and purple tail. Whoever he was, John already loved him. 

“I’m a merman. Get over it, pretty boy,” Alex rolled his eyes. He found an eyepatch among the things and slid it over his right eye. 

“Pretty boy? Hey! Stop going through my things! That’s classified stuff! In fact, get out of my boat! I can’t be distracted! I need to go west. I need to find the fleet of General Washington!” John lunged at the merman, who rocked the boat to get the blond to stay still. “Stop! I need to get information to him. Can you help me? I’ll let you keep almost anything if you do.” 

Alexander smiled. A worthwhile deal. “Fair trade. What’s your name sailor?” He grabbed John’s shirt and tugged him close, trying to decide whether to actually trust him. 

“John Laurens. Following orders from a mister Nathan Hale.” 

Alex froze. Hale was Benjamin Tallmadge’s fiance. Ben Tallmadge, the head of intelligence to General Washington of the fleet of rebels they were a part of. Laurens was to be protected at all costs if he’d seen Nathan and gotten information. 

“I’m Alexander Hamilton and you’re coming with me. You’re lucky I have some food with me. You look absolutely pitiful,” he said and pulled a piece of tuna from his bag that Martha Washington had cooked for him. 

“What? Really?” John looked embarrassed and afraid as Alex slid from his rowboat, the eyepatch slipping around his neck like an unglorified necklace. 

“Yes. Here, take my whole bag. Hand me some rope. Pull the oars into your boat,” Alex commanded, and John followed his orders, although hesitantly. Alex wrapped the rope round his shoulders and started to pull the rowboat to the largest ship of the fleet, Yorktown, as John ate tuna from his bag. 

The ships were more beautiful and cleaned up than the entirety of the British Navy that John had seen.


	2. All Aboard, Continental Ship Yorktown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The short chapter where John has no clue what's going on and the poor boy is dragged aboard a ship he hardly knows anything about. 
> 
> (This is not my proudest piece)

If he was going to be honest, John had no clue what was going on. Surely he was dreaming. Men of all colors of skin (and wings) ran about between the two largest boats via planks and the ones flying seemed to be delivering messages or people to the other boats. Some were just having fun with it, tucking in their wings and diving into the water and soaking their feathers, then pulling themselves right back out and getting back to work. Even some men or they looked more like boys, were jumping off the edge and swimming and climbing back aboard from the large rope nets that hung down for them. 

A grand time, and if he knew what the hell was going on, John was sure he would’ve joined them. 

Now Alex had been swimming for nearly an entire half day now, but it was only noon. The weight of the boat he was tugging clearly slowed him down and tired him out. After all, his small form could only do so much. 

A high-pitched, wailing whistle sounded from a brightly colored figure in the sky. He had spotted the little rowboat in the water and flew off the side of the mast towards it. “Alexander! Mon Ami, I have been worrying!” The figure cried and dove straight into the water without a care if he got wet. He hugged the merman that had saved John. He pronounced Alex’s name strangely like it was Alex-andre, but it suited him with his accent, and Alexander didn’t seem an easy name to say in French. 

“Gilbert, really, you don’t need to--” Alex tried to pry from the winged man’s grip, but before he could, two big kisses were given to each of his cheeks. 

“Mon Captain will be most delighted to hear you have returned! And who have you brought?” Lafayette asked and heaved himself into the boat, wings and all. John scooted back to allow him room and admired his wings. 

Shining reds and stark whites and glittering blues. The colors of England, but based on the way this boy spoke, also from France. 

“His name is John Laurens. Son of you-know-who. He claims to have escaped Philadelphia with Nate’s information and with our spy. Don’t scare him,” Alex warned as the Frenchman stepped closer to examine the state John was in. Messy hair, scratched up, holes in his shirt and breeches, no shoes... A mess, if ever Gilbert de Lafayette had seen one. 

“I will inform Captain Tallmadge right away!” He said and spread his wings, not even giving them a moment to reply before he disappeared on the deck of what John read as Morristown. 

“Gilbert, tell Washington, too!” Alex shouted after him. 

“On it, mon cher!” He cried and flew from one boat to the next. 

Ropes were quickly lowered to the water and John didn’t know what the hell was happening (again), but it seemed they were trying to lift him up into the larger boat. Alex swiftly leaped into the rowboat to be brought up with the rest of them, and when the supplies and pair of them were dumped onto the deck, the boat was dropped carelessly back down and tied to the ship to keep it from drifting away. 

“Where’s he? Where is my Nathan!?” Someone cried and ran across the plank and directly towards John. Someone held him back and tried to talk sense into him. 

Gilbert made a reappearance alongside a tall, finely dressed man with an air of importance and power. Washington, John remembered, the captain. He stumbled to his feet at the sight of him and lifted his right arm, his dominant arm, into a salute. Unfortunately, he had strained that arm during his escape and winced. 

“Where is Nathan Hale’s information?” The captain commanded. 

John fumbled for the book in his shirt. He had hidden it well enough that not even Alex would’ve suspected he had it on him. “He gave this to me before I escaped with Private Woodhull’s assistance.” 

The man that had shouted at him from before snatched it from his hands. “My Nate... Always finding a way,” he mumbled. 

“What happened to him?” A tall, tan man with a needle stuck through his hat asked. It still had some pink thread hanging from the end. 

“Last I saw, he was still alive in the hull of Philadelphia. But that was nearly... Four? Five days ago?” John tried to remember, but his days had blurred together. 

A groan from one of the men in the back of the group. “Captain, are we really to trust this man? He could be a spy! Ben, are the notes genuine?” He was accompanied by two burly wolves, one of ginger hair and the other smaller of white hair. 

“Everyone return to your stations, please! I will handle this with Major Tallmadge and my aides! Meanwhile, I want Lafayette and Mulligan to show mister Laurens around,” the Captain spoke up and everyone immediately started to fall back into place. Alex was helped up and dumped back into the water, but he quickly found his way back into their rowboat. 

That glare between them didn’t look good... John knew it. Was there some kind of secret code between the captain his crew? The glare between him and Lafayette... 

Lafayette, the colorful winged man, grabbed his arm. “Mon cher, you will love Yorktown!” He cooed. 

Mulligan was the man with the needle in his hat and he grabbed the other arm. “He likes you. Gil doesn’t call everyone dear, y’know.” 

They started to haul him towards the bow without waiting for a response.


	3. Never Tour A Boat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tour begins and John finds himself in a bigger mess than he was already in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I'm always open to constructive criticism and looking for ways to improve. Leave your notes, ideas, and opinions in the comments! I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> French Translations are in the end notes.

It truly was a lovely ship. One of the most beautiful John had ever seen. He wanted to ask how they had somehow gotten their hands on it, but the man to his right, Gilbert de Lafayette, beat him to it.

“I stole Yorktown from the British if you were wondering, _mon ami_ ,” he said and sounded smug about it.

“You did not. It was a group effort, kid. Gil and Alex and a few others took it. I helped to repair it,” Hercules said from his left. The pair shared a look and John was left to wonder how the hell Alexander had helped take siege of an entire ship.

“Hercules! Who’s this?” A tall lady in a very commanding pose was gliding across the plank still connected to Morristown. She was dressed in garbs of deep reds and blacks that struck John as imposing. She was obviously trying to prove that a lady doesn’t need to dress up and look pretty and that they’re as strong as, if not stronger than, men. At least this one was.

“Angelica! _Je vous ai manqué_!“ Gilbert said and rushed to her side. He didn’t help her down, despite that he offered his hand.

“Hey Laffy Taffy. How’s your wing? Better?” She asked and looked happy to see him.

“ _Oui! Le Dr. McHenry a aidé mon aile à guérir_ ,” he said, and John quickly translated it. What had happened to him that a doctor would be needed?

“Angelica, meet John Laurens. He’s an honorary crewmember of Yorktown now. John, this is Captain Angelica Schuyler, visiting from her temporary ship, The Expedition. Her current one is... elsewhere. Captured, I could say,” Hercules spoke up in the midst of their French. John extended his hand.

Angelica looked offended by this. “You mean to kiss my hand!” She snapped and John received a slap across the face. “I don’t know if you can tell, but I am not a damsel in need of any manly assistance!”

John whimpered and fell onto his rear. “Ma’am, please! I only mean to shake your hand! I...” He couldn’t find something else to say to save him. He had probably just made such a bad introduction to her. She would think so much less of him now. He was beginning to mentally panic.

She was quiet and quickly left back to her own ship without apologizing.

John was helped up and given a quick kiss to the cheek, which made him flush a bright shade of pink on his face and neck. “Wha--”

“Kisses always help me feel better. I thought perhaps they might help your cheek,” Gilbert said with a big smile. His wings fidgeted almost nervously on his back and John felt embarrassed for assuming. He was French. He didn’t know better about his American customs. But already, he was feeling slightly better. 

“Thanks,” he managed out.

“Let’s get you to meet the other aides! You met Laffy and Alex, but there’s still some you need to see,” Hercules said and he was being around again. Lafayette took to the air and whistled. A different high-pitched squeal than before.

Five men all rushed to the deck in a rough line. Laf joined them and said something John didn’t catch and they all relaxed. John was dragged in front of the line.

“Everyone, meet John Laurens! He’s an honorary crewmember for a while,” Herc said. The aides, as they were called, started to examine him and finally, a short avien (the species of winged people) stepped forward.

“Robert Hanson Harrison. Call me what you want as long as it isn’t short,” he said and shook John’s hand.

Another man stepped up from behind him. He was a dirty blond and nearly John’s own height. And his eyes were a shade of green he had never seen before. There was something unique about him. 

He had a smile on his face as he extended his hand to John. “John Fitzgerald. Call me Fitz,” he offered and they shook hands. Harrison was lightly pushed aside, only for the redhead that had pushed him to get shoved back, right into Fitz.

“Come on, Tench, I know you love him, but don’t make this your first impression to the new one!” Hercules said with a teasing smirk.

The redhead, Tench, John would guess, blushed and righted himself and Fitz before he forced his hand into John’s. “Tench Tilghman, at your service. Ignore everything everyone else says around here about me and Fitz.”

“Fitz and I!” Harrison corrected.

“Oh _merde_ , do not start this again! I speak English very good and both ways of saying it is fine! Stop being so.... So...” Lafayette paused to think of the word.

“Pretentious?” John offered.

“ _Oui_!”

“Whatever! You’re all taking too long. Laurens, you met most everyone, right? Do we still need to introduce you to Hamilton?” Another man piped up.

“Who are you?” John asked and tilted his head to the side in confusion. To Harrison, who was now whispering something in Lafayette’s ear, he looked like a lost puppy. (They’re making bets. Who’s gonna fall in love first, Alex or John?)

“Richard Kidder Meade! We call him Kidder,” Harrison said and the brightly colored wings on his back fluttered like he was uncomfortable. Perhaps for sitting still too long.

“A pleasure,” Kidder said and quickly tipped his hat (a lovely trifold lined with a glittering gold lacing. Truly beautiful craftsmanship) to him.

“That leaves Henry and Alex, but you saw Alex, and you’ll have time enough to meet everyone else. Laffy, a little help?” Hercules said and John hardly had time to react before a pair of swords were thrust at his neck and he was being dragged towards a set of stairs.

“What!? Where am I going?” He asked frantically and winced every time the cold silvery metal pressed a bit closer than he was comfortable with.

“The brig,” Kidder answered helpfully and his wings spread out as he got back to work. Everyone else quickly followed suit.

Within moments, John was thrown into a room and had the door slammed behind him. It locked audibly. He was alone here. At least half a dozen hammocks hung between the posts and there were two tables and a few chairs scattered across the room. No windows, but there was one lantern hanging above a hammock closest to the door. Someone had obviously been down here to make sure he wouldn’t be afraid of the dark.

“From one prison to another,” John mumbled to himself. This was going to be a long wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French Translations: 
> 
> Mon ami - My friend  
> Je vous ai manqué - I missed you  
> Oui - Yes  
> Le Dr. McHenry a aidé mon aile à guérir - Doctor McHenry helped my wing heal  
> Merde - Shit


	4. Werewolves and Doctors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John meets a few crew members.

Two days, was it? Something like that. John’s internal clock might’ve been a little off, but he thought he was alone for roughly two days before the brig’s door squealed open again.

“Ah! There he is! My patient, John Laurens, wasn’t it? I’m James McHenry,” the stranger said and lifted a lantern closer to his face to reveal a big smile to John. He looked... human. Nothing different like the winged men or... something else. McHenry was followed by four others. Captain Washington, Captain Tallmadge, and two others. John recognized one of them vaguely. But this must've been the doctor McHenry Lafayette had mentioned and perhaps the one Hercules had referred to as Henry. 

“James, I want you to do your best work. If he knows something, please try to get it from him without using force,” Washington said and turned to leave, closing and locking the door behind him.

McHenry nodded and pulled up a seat near the hammock John was rocking back and forth in with the rhythmic sway of the ship. “Yes, well. Introductions. I am McHenry, as you know. This is Captain Benjamin Tallmadge. Human. I know you’re probably wondering. Yes, quite a strange Navy we are, huh?” He said and was clearly a nervous talker. John let him begin inspecting his face and hands. A doctor, John could tell. Better to let him do what he needed.

“I’m looking for my Nathan Hale. Trying to get him back. Our spy said you were correct with the information, but nonetheless, we need to do some... checkups, first,” Tallmadge spoke up.

“Ah, Ben, I’m sure he knows already. I’m gonna need you to remove your boots and vest, son,” McHenry warned. John obliged.

“My name is Samuel Seabury. I’m the resident priest. Previously a bishop to the King, but I have since changed, as you can see,” the ginger one of the unnamed men stepped forward and once John’s vest was off, they shook hands.

“He’s a saint,” said the other.

“That’s my boyfriend. Charles Lee. He can communicate with animals,” Sam rolled his eyes and the silver cross on the necklace he wore glittered in the low lantern light.

“Charmed, Mister Laurens,” Lee rolled his eyes and sounded sarcastic. “Sam, watch your language. A priest shouldn’t be thinking like that.”

Sam broke into a bright blush. “ _CHARLES_! You know I hate it when you do that!” He snapped and sounded upset. John looked confused and looked between them.

“Wait, you’re an animal?” John asked and based on the look he got from Ben, that was a very bad question to ask.

“Werewolf! But because I presume it’s some sort of animal, Charles can understand my thoughts, whether I like it or not. I was a wolf when you saw me,” Sam said quickly.

Lee smirked.

Tallmadge started to interrogate him about what he knew and all that had happened. Honest answers every time and Ben wrote all this down faster than John thought possible.

McHenry kept doing his checkups until... “Okay. Your shirt now,” he said.

John immediately recoiled. “What!?”

“He said he needs you to take off your shirt,” Lee snickered and pulled Sam towards the door to leave them in peace.

“You won’t judge me for anything?” John asked the pair that remained. They both looked at each other with confused expressions. They clearly didn’t know how to deal with someone that was self-conscious of themselves.

John pulled his shirt off, revealing a few too many scars on his shoulders and chest. They looked white and everywhere you looked, another got your attention. The largest, though, was a big wound on his right shoulder. A bullet hole that went straight from the front to the back. It’d healed well, fortunately.

McHenry oohed and aahed over them, questioning what each one was from, and John answered honestly. Ben just stood in shocked silence. Then John turned around, and the marks from being lashed were clear.

“What are these from?” McHenry touched the white lines gently. No wonder John was self-conscious.

“Uhm... Imprisonment on the British ships,” he lied. Ben saw through it immediately. The change in his demeanor gave it away. John fidgeted when he lied. Keep this in mind, Tallmadge told himself.

The rest of the checkup and interrogation went smoothly. With John in good health and Ben with all the information he needed, they served him his dinner of bread and lemon slices (to protect from scurvy) and left.

 

“He’s a fine gentleman, sir. Lied about only one thing. Very honest. Good health except for the beginning of malnutrition setting in, but otherwise, this John Laurens is fit for our crew. He may be a good aide for you based on the memory he possesses and the callouses on his hands, which indicate he’s either an artist or author,” Tallmadge said as he was delivering his report to Washington.

“Benjamin, do you know a broken man when you see them?” He asked suddenly and the captain watched as Morristown was leaving for battle elsewhere.

“No, sir. Do you believe him a broken one?” Ben asked and watched his captain.

Washington stood up straight and watched Alexander, his adopted son, waving goodbye to the Schuyler sisters aboard Morristown. “We’ll see. He will continue to sleep in the brig, but beginning tomorrow, I want him out and around with the others. He has work he could be doing.”

“Yes sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Laurens had a sad past. Chapters later, you'll see what I mean. If you want a background, I have a story up that's about the Characters and their backstories which is mostly for myself, but feel free to look at it. I must warn you: It contains spoilers and definitely a lot of gay.


	5. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander has a much-needed revelation and John is released to do as he pleases.

It was common knowledge to everyone aboard the Yorktown that Alexander Hamilton was not interested in anybody with legs. After Elizabeth Schuyler’s inevitable crush on the handsome merman and having told him so, he came forward with the excuse that he didn’t share her feelings because he wasn’t interested in anybody with legs. It ‘weirded him out’ to think about loving someone like that. 

Then he met John Laurens. At first sight, he knew he was crushing on the man. Even when he was roughed up and not anywhere near his best, Alex fell immediately for him. As he thought about all this from the comfort of his own ledge on the side of the boat, he heard shouting on deck. 

“...will be staying in the brig, still...” 

“...can’t prove his loyalty...” 

Alex recognized the voices as Tilghman and Fitz. They were undoubtedly relaxing after finishing today’s work, and he suspected Meade was flying around delivering messages. Harrison was sitting in the crow’s nest, looking down on everyone, as usual. Alex couldn’t see where everyone else was from his ledge. 

“Fitz, he’s the son of Henry Laurens. He’s not going to be loyal to our cause. I’m willing to bet right now that he’s going to jump ship and try to escape as soon as we let him on deck,” Tench said and crossed his arms across his chest. The shapeshifter beside him let out a puff of breath in exasperation. 

“I’ll take your bet. Two gold coins say he won’t run,” Fitz reached a hand into his pocket and showed him the two gold pieces he’d stowed away after their last raid. 

Tench shook his hand. “You’re on.” 

Alex was snapped out of the conversation when he received a splash from the water, not a few feet below. “Hey, Betta boy! Miss us?” 

John Graves Simcoe, the leader of the Queen’s Rangers. His typical mask was still framed perfectly on his face and if Alex didn’t know better, he might even call it charming. But the men were ruthless and Simcoe was suffering from mental problems that only a few could help him through, so Alex knew better than to get too close to the pod of Killer Whale-like mermen. 

“On the contrary. You missed it. We have a prisoner aboard,” Alex informed and Simcoe’s smile grew into a smirk. 

“Really!? Who?” He shifted the armor framed on his shoulders, which was clearly uncomfortable, and Alex could see his dorsal fin as he swam closer. 

"John Laurens," Alex quickly said and looked back to the conversation he'd heard before. 

"Ah! The old Laurens boy! I know the one. Tall, blond, rich?" Simcoe clarified and added something just as Alex was about to answer him. "Handsome?" 

"Yes," the Betta merman said and his face broke out into a flush, just as John Laurens himself emerged onto the deck, followed by Captain Tallmadge. By the clipped bits of conversation Alexander could make out, Ben was explaining their rules to John. The prisoner glanced away and clearly caught sight of Alex's hiding spot and looked away again, but in that split second, Alex could feel himself melt. 

"Hey, kid, are you alright? Are you getting minnows in your chest?" Simcoe prodded his shoulder and smirked at him knowingly. He flipped up his mask and Alex got a perfect sight of his crystalline blue eyes and bright face. Why Simcoe covered himself up was a mystery. 

"What is this feeling?" He whimpered and looked to Simcoe for assistance. The orca-man sat up on his platform and snagged a look at John before he turned back to his... friend? Acquaintance? There was some kind of word for their relationship, but neither knew what it was. 

Simcoe cleared his throat. "My little naive lion," he began, "you're gay." 

Outrage. Alex's gills flared and the fins on the sides of his tail puffed out to make himself look more fearsome, but Simcoe wasn't afraid and held his ground. The Betta fish merman had to control the urge to scream and hiss at Simcoe that he was wrong. He had never thought, ever in his life, that he could be gay. He was against humans. He could never love anybody with legs. It felt wrong. 

But... perhaps he just never found the right human. He'd heard of mermaids who had hated all humans until they found someone right for them, but he never considered that to happen to him before. He glanced at John against and lost all his tension. 

"I'm gay," he whimpered in the realization that Simcoe was right. 

"There you go! Congratulations! You're like the rest of us. When I met Major Hewlett, I was the same way. Now he and I work alongside each other in the fight!" Simcoe cooed happily and flipped his mask back down as they heard footsteps rapidly approaching. 

They hardly knew what had happened before there was a splash in the water nearby and Ben was screaming over the edge of the ship about 'man overboard'. 

The pair of mermaids jumped in the get whoever it happened to be. 

The man in the water was John Laurens, and he was a better swimmer than Alex would have originally thought. His blond hair was tied into a tight bun now, and he had kicked off his boots before jumping overboard to resist them dragging him down. John had clearly not expected to be followed by Simcoe and Alex. The crew rushed to the side of the ship to see their prisoner attempting to escape, and if you glanced back, you could see Tench taking two of Fitz's coins, just as they had bet. 

Alex swiftly swam around in front of John and grabbed his shoulders. "Stop! I won't allow you any further!" He shouted his rehearsed line should this ever happen. 

"Let me go! Please! I don't belong here! I just need to go back to my father and I need to get away from here!" John cried and Simcoe grabbed his waist tightly to keep him still. "I need to find my daughter! Please! I just need to get away!" 

"Shut up! You're a prisoner of the Continental Navy now and we are not allowing you to get away! You have no family now! You are not who you were!" Simcoe barked and John froze at his words, as expected. 

The blond man's resolve crumbled and he practically went limp in the pair's arms. Alex and Simcoe pulled him back to the ship where Ben pulled him aboard again. Boots abandoned and soaking wet, John looked miserable. His bun sagged with the weight of the water now and his clothes stuck to his skin. With how close it all stuck to him, it was clear he would've been on his way to being starved had he not escaped when he did. The British had attempted to starve him and based on the look in his empty eyes, the British had also torn any will to live from his soul except for whoever his daughter was he spoke of. 

Alex saw his eyes and awful appearance and he felt his chest ache. Simcoe sat up on his ledge beside him and tried to look through his eyes, but John Graves Simcoe could not bring himself to care as much. 

There was a lot of explaining Laurens had to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Captain Simcoe has a big fat gay crush on Major Hewlett.


	6. Sunshine and Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John tells the story of his family and why he can't stay.

John sat, wrapped in a towel, on the deck of Yorktown. Everyone of importance was gathered around to hear what he had to say. It wasn't the first time, they knew, because as John was the son of one of the most prestigious men in the Colonies, he had surely been surrounded by people of higher more moral standings. He began to speak and it seemed the world silenced for him. 

"Frances is my daughter. I was forced into marriage with a woman named Martha by my father to gain more connections, and I had no choice but to say yes. I got drunk one night and we had Frances a few months later. I knew the first time I saw her, I'd never leave her with my father. Once I found somewhere safe, I would get her and save her. That country is changing, and it's dangerous for her. I won't have her hurt," John's throat seized at the thought of returning home and seeing everything desecrated, just as his nightmares presented. He couldn't imagine the one wonderfully good thing in his life, his daughter, who was never intended to happen but she was such a blessing, being killed. 

John lived for her. He lived for the chance to see her again. If she died, he would surely make sure whoever or whatever caused it got payback. 

"Go on, if you're alright doing so. Nobody is judging you for any of this," Captain Tallmadge quietly reminded. He was thinking of his own jar of sunshine, his Nathan Hale, on a prisoner ship not far away. He would die for his Pythias, and he could understand what John was talking about. 

John nodded and glanced at Alex, who sat in the same spot as before, just within earshot, beside Simcoe. "My father mistreated me. Every time I would do something stupid, it was never just a smack across my wrist. He'd do terrible things. I can't-" His throat closed again at the memories he'd never outrun. "I can't--" 

Someone grabbed his hand and he looked up to see a woman. She looked kind and motherly and it just made John want to cry because dear Lord, she looked so much like his mother. 

"It's okay, dear," she said and John could feel tears rushing down his face now. This woman looked so much like his own mother and he felt like he was eight years old again, sitting in her lap, listening to stories. But he was nearly twenty-four now, and this was no place to remember that his mother would not be waiting for his return home. 

"I protected everyone I could. But I can't go back. I just need Frances and then... I'll come back. I just need Frances, please," John began sobbing and Gilbert's face changed into one of concern and in his eyes, there was rage. Someone had hurt this beautiful man and based on what he said, it was his father. 

Alex spoke up. "We'll send you with someone to get her, but you'd need to pledge your allegiance to us. You are just as broken as the rest of the crew here, and you'd be a lovely addition to the family. We have a safe place and if you stay, we could make sure Martha watches Frances," he said and got a glare from Captain Washington. But before he could open his mouth to speak, Ben was on his feet. 

"Perfect idea. We just need to make sure things run smoothly," Ben said and looked to the redhead beside him. Lafayette was a fair inch or so taller than him, but the winged man didn't seem to care. He never bragged about his height. 

"I volunteer!" The Frenchman said and looked more than happy to oblige. 

"You can't honestly be considering a rescue mission on the mainland," Washington spoke up. 

"Sir, if it gets us that man, it will be worth it." Alexander had always been an excellent judge of character, so that decided that dispute. 

John got to his feet. "Sir, I won't let any of you down. Please, just let me get my daughter." Teary faced, still wet in his hair and clothes, and so broken deep down, under so many walls, Washington couldn't say no to John. 

"Alright. Let's get started on a plan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what a bitch this was to write


	7. Journal Entries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan to free Frances from Mepkin Plantation and John's thoughts of his colleagues.

_Sunday, June 1, 1776. The Plan To Free Frances._  

John had been given a journal to write his thoughts in every day, so long as he turned it in for Tallmadge to read once every 24 hours. Alexander had brought the idea up at dinner one night just to Ben and Washington, who decided it was a good idea. A way to check and make sure he was having stable thoughts and a way for him to express himself. Within the first five days, there were ten pages filled out, front and back, with drawings and entries and ideas and reminders. 

John had a lot to say. 

_On Tuesday, we set out on my rowboat. Captain Gilbert de Lafayette will be accompanying me as well as aide Alexander Hamilton and the pod of mer ~~men~~ maids they call the Queen's Rangers. An ironic name, as they despise the royals, but they found it fitting since the men of the pod could then easily trick the enemy. _

It had been mentioned by John in a previous entry John's thoughts of Hamilton. To quote, "He is a peculiar thing. A half man half Betta fish with red hair and freckles that smatter across his skin like stars. Sharp fangs and fins I am afraid to touch for fear they will be similarly sharp. He's skinny and small and I am sure without his tail he wouldn't be very tall. No more than five and a half feet. This man has strange blue eyes as well, and if you look at them in the sun right, his eyes turn a beautiful shade of violet. I am convinced he is made of magic itself."

Later, he added more. "He calls himself Alexander Hamilton but offered me to call him Alex. I think it fitting. I got to speak to him, and he happens to be a very kind, wonderful person. The more time I spend with him, the more I find myself longing for. Perhaps this is the beginning of a truly lovely friendship, but I can't help but want more. Perhaps this is the kind of things my father warned me of, instead." And that is where he cut himself off. 

But John had failed to ever mention Lafayette before, but he decided to do it later. Why interrupt what he'd already begun with speaking about the mission? 

 _We are to row under the cover of night into the harbor, where we will then come ashore at the mouth of the Cooper. There, following the map Hercules Mulligan found for us, we follow the banks and find Mepkin. Hamilton and the Rangers will be waiting in the water if anything goes wrong. We wait until it is [roughly] midnight when I know my father will be finished with his work and retiring before I use the cellar entrance into my home and find my daughter. Once I find Frances, we head for the boat. The Rangers will take the rope we pack and pull us back to the harbor and we will row back to_ Yorktown _from there._  
 _Should something go wrong, Captain Washington is entrusting Lafayette and myself with pistols. If all works out smoothly, my daughter will be given to the care of Lady Washington herself and we will return to port at the largest island on Friday. I pray to my Lord that all will be well._

John added on Monday his summary of Lafayette; "A man my height, which I do not easily find. He has bright somewhat strawberry colored hair that makes me think of summer days and blooming flowers. He has very few freckles on his cheeks and neck, unlike Hamilton, who I have spoken more with lately. But Gilbert, as many call him, is always smiling. There is yet a time when I do not see at least some form of a smile on his handsome face. 

"It suits him. He is going to be a friend, I can assure, and I will hope to impress him tomorrow when we retrieve Frances. I sincerely want his friendship. I know I am not the only one. He will add much joy to my life, I hope, or I will only bring him down. I pray not the latter." 

John didn't write more until Thursday. 

_Thursday, June 5, 1776._

_We have retrieved Frances! She is a lovely lady and I could never hope for a child more wonderful than her. She has my blond hair and her mother's eyes, which is most fortunate. It fits her much better than it would have should she have gotten her mother's dark hair and my bright eyes. In her youth, I can only hope to shape her alongside the people of the islands I will soon be defending. I know she will be very safe. I trust these men and women._   
_The mission went very smoothly, and the only thing that was wrong was that I discovered my wife, Martha Manning, was passed away, and I cried carrying Frances from Mepkin, both tears of sorrow and joy. Despite that I never loved my dear girl as I know she loved me, I regret not saying goodbye, at the least._

He doodled more on the bottom of that page, and it wasn't quite clear who it was. Upon close inspection though, it was clearly the upper body of Hamilton himself, splattered with freckles and smiling brightly. It seemed from some of the smaller doodles in the corners of pages that he was trying to draw his tail but it was eluding him of exactly how to. 

When he turned the journal into Tallmadge at the end of the day, he didn't even think about what he might think about his entries and doodles and what they might think of them. Let's just say, bets were placed and Benjamin knew that there was going to be a lot of gossip for Nathan when he returned. The plan to retrieve him was being put together, and now that they had information and John Laurens, things were going to start falling into place to put it into action. 


	8. The One With The Fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flirting always got him far, but what if someone is oblivious?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The translations for the italicized words are at the bottom.

"He's offered him a fish." 

"Exactly! A proclamation of his love to him! Honestly, you humans are so oblivious sometimes," Gilbert rolled his eyes and tossed the pair of pink and black dice up in the air to catch them again. 

"Well, I apologize that us humans don't know much about your fantasy world. It's strange enough to us now that we even know you all exist. Knowing the rules of your world too would be a bit much right now, but we'll learn soon," Benjamin sighed and held Laurens's journal open to read it. It had become a pastime to discuss the growing relationship between the human and merman from what John had written. Doodles of Alex scattered the pages, too, as well as plants and anatomy and other people's faces. He was a lovely artist. 

" _Mon Petit Lion_ has been feeding John more than us. Soon our own provisions will run dry and with the new delay to returning to port, the odds are not in our favor," Gilbert said and tossed the dice onto the deck. " _Quatre et Trois!_ " He called out before they hit the ground. "What do you call?" 

"Seven," Ben responded and Gilbert went to check how the dice had landed. A two and a five. Lafayette had lost this round. 

"You cheat," the Frenchman rolled his eyes and went back to casually tossing the dice between his hands. His wings shifted on his back uncomfortably. 

"I do not. Nate and I used to play this all the time. Lucky guesses, but the vaguer your answer, the higher likelihood to succeed," Ben said and closed the book to face Gilbert, who was listening closely with a quizzical expression. 

" _Cinq!_ " Lafayette called and tossed the dice across the deck again. " _Et Cinq!_ " 

"Nine," Ben challenged and went to go see what they had landed on. Two fives. Lafayette had won for the first time in ten throws. "So getting back on topic, you mean to say that the storm will stop us and Laurens will be the only one with food?" 

" _Oui_. He will keep _Jean_ healthy and uh..." He blanched on a word. Gilbert started snapping his fingers and muttering under his breath trying to think of it. Thank the stars for Tench Tilghman, who was carrying a bag of papers and ink from the aide office to their personal quarters, because he could speak French. " _Mon cher, savez-vous ce que le mot pour la sécurité?_ " 

Ben paused and looked at Tench with a tilt to his head. Now he looked like a quizzical beagle. 

" _Sécurité?"_ Tench repeated. 

" _Oui_." 

"Safety," he supplied and kept walking, assuming that was all that was needed. 

"Et safety!" Lafayette continued where he left off. " _Alexandre_ will make sure his _amour_ is safety and healthy and he will not supply the rest of us because we are starving his _amour_."

"The storm is only set to delay us three days, Lafayette. Surely we have enough provisions to last those days and the two days back to port?" Ben looked at him like he was crazy. 

Gilbert shook his head, which nearly threw his hat off. Now it was crooked instead, and he made no move to change it. "You will see, _mon ami_. _Alexandre_ and the rest of us have the extra sense. It will be a bad storm. He will only supply his trusted ones and _Jean_. You will see soon." 

Ben was left after that and Lafayette took to the sky to the crow's nest, where Harrison was sitting and watching the horizon. He must've thought it to be important to leave a conversation with a captain. He never left Ben's conversation. So Benjamin was left alone with John's journal and watching John himself and Alexander talking at the edge of the ship. They looked so happy together... 

He couldn't imagine Alexander abandoning the rest of them, though. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quatre et Trois - Four and Three  
> Mon Petit Lion - My Little Lion  
> Cinq et Cinq - Five and Five  
> Oui - Yes  
> Jean - John  
> Mon cher, savez-vous ce que le mot pour la sécurité? - My dear, do you know the word for safety?  
> Sécurité - Safety/Security  
> Alexandre - Alexander  
> Amour - Love  
> Mon ami - My friend


	9. La Plus Grande Tempête

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Biggest Storm.

The brig was the quietest place on the ship. With it being mostly submerged, the waves couldn't crash against the sides and the wind couldn't howl. The loudest moments were when the chairs or tables tipped over and slid across the room from the vast tipping and swaying. John stayed stable in his hammock, just swaying with the ship itself, writing in his journal. After his first attempts to write without being interrupted by some loud clammer in the quarters above him, he gave up and just started to doodle. 

It wasn't until his candle went out did he realize who or what he'd been drawing. He relit it. 

Alexander Hamilton. A rough sketch, but a drawing of him nonetheless. Of his upper body, as John still could not master his tail, from behind. His back and shoulders and hair, all the way you could see him if he was just relaxing in the sun on a calm day. John didn't realize that he had so easily and thoughtlessly started drawing him. 

"LAURENS! PRESENT!" Someone screamed from upstairs and John scrambled to drop his journal into his hammock, grab his candle to lead him through the dark hallways, and rush onto the deck. 

If hell were real, he imagined this was it. The storm was carelessly tossing men about that were trying desperately to keep the sails in place and secure more ropes for it. The rain pelted everything like knives falling from the clouds, and lightning lit up the ship with ghostly shadows and images of what John was sure were real spirits and angels. Captain Washington was dressed in his cloak and holding his hat steady on his head as he screamed orders over the constant rumbling thunder. Tallmadge was running around trying to get hatches closed and save supplies. Occasionally, a large wave would roll over one edge and spill back over another. It was loud and violent and dangerous. 

"Benjamin!" A French-accented voice screamed over the howling wind. Braving his way through the rain and wind with remarkable control, Lafayette was flying around the deck and trying to help in any way he could. "Laurens is present!" 

Ben spun around to see him just in time for the ship to lurch right and both Ben and John fell onto the hard wood. They both caught themselves, by now being used to sudden shifts and recovering quickly. 

"Laurens, I need a favor! A big one, but please understand that everyone else is already working an important job and you're strong and I need this. It's dangero--" 

"Yes. What is it?" John agreed before he heard the word 'dangerous' get finished. 

"There's a snag in one of the sails. I need you to go climb up the mast, tug it free _without ripping it_ , and come back. Please, and thank you and GO!" Ben shouted above the wind and pointed to the mast with a sense of urgency. 

John stumbled away immediately and was almost bowled over by a wave that swept its way onto the deck. He would've laughed at how Alexander was caught in the raging water if he wasn't in the middle of a job and he didn't see the look in Alex's eyes. The merman looked absolutely terrified and pushed himself back into the water as soon as he could. He made it to the mast and started using the makeshift ladder of spokes on either side to climb up. It was surprisingly easy with the wind at his back. 

Then it shifted. 

He nearly let go with the combination of the strong wing and slippery wood, but he held his grip for fear of falling and either cracking his head open or being lost at sea. Frances had to get to the islands with a father intact. 

He got to the snag in the sail and carefully, with arms and legs wrapped around the post, crawled out toward it. Again, a roar of wind almost knocked him over and the icy rain cut his skin like tiny knives. Then, before he could reach out to try and tug the sail free, a bright bolt of lightning lit up the sky and there was a deafening crack like the air had just split open. His hair stood on end from the new static surrounding them. From this height, John could see more waves and lightning and there didn't look like any end in sight. He had to focus on work, he reminded himself. 

He grabbed the sail in one hand and gave it a little tug. Gentle. And it that one motion, it came free and opened up. 

John had to sit for a moment and catch his breath and think, _dear God was it really that easy? Was the hardest and scariest part just getting up here? Wow._  

He started to climb down, being mindful of the wind, and when he got on deck, started to search for Benjamin again. 

The ship tilted back and John slipped with his back against the mast. He now saw from this position why. A wave, maybe (if they were lucky) sixty feet tall, was towering over them, but they were moving up the swelling mass with the wind strong in their sails. From here, he could see the flicker of Alexander's bright scales lighting up with the lightning. It seemed he was waiting at the top of the wave for them or possibly guiding them. 

It was terrifying, but in less than a minute, they were gliding safely down the other side of the wave, Captains Washington and Tallmadge standing at the helm of the ship, guiding them through the storm. John stumbled up to Ben's side. "Present!" He shouted over the roaring wind and waves. 

"Great. I'll let you know when we need another favor," Ben said and nudged him away. 

From the higher vantage point and not so much adrenaline coursing through his veins, John could see figures leaping out of the water and disappearing back into what looked inky and black and so unnervingly like a death sentence. Their faces gleamed brightly in the occasional lightning and he knew immediately who they were. The Queen's Rangers. They made a sport out of jumping between the waves and swimming alongside the ship as closely as they dared. Their armor looked dull and uncomfortable and he wondered what they did when they had leisure time. 

Suddenly another lurch to the left sent John onto his side and into the wave that had just washed across the deck. Before he knew it, he was out of breath and being sucked down into the murky blackness. An appropriate metaphor for his last few years of life, clawing for a way out of the depression that seemed to drown him and try to drag him under. 

He didn't hear anyone screaming the alarm of a man overboard. He only heard static and tried frantically to get back to the surface. When he finally got there, another wave pushed him down. With his eyes open in the salty ocean, he saw a flash of lightning and a brightly colored tail. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. He tried to kick off his boots and swim for the surface again, but they weren't coming off. _Damn it! Damn the tight buckles!_

A hand grabbed his chin and another grabbed the back of his neck and he screamed. John didn't expect something to grab him, and he suddenly felt like he was being pulled into hell by demons. Go figure. His father had always warned him that his homosexual urges would damn him to hell and that he should repent and at least try to suppress them. He had tried, and that's what resulted in Frances. If these were his final thoughts, then hell, he would think of Frances. His lovely daughter, who was half-orphaned and hopefully safe with Lady Washington in the bowels of the ship. She would grow up to be lovely and free and safe in the islands. He hoped someone would raise her well. Someone like Captain Washington himself, who seemed to treat everyone like a son or daughter. 

John's mind ran fast through what he was sure going to be his last thoughts, but it was all silenced in one moment. 

A soft, small pair of lips pressed right up against his own, the hands belonging to the owner of the lips as well. John suddenly felt like he could breathe again and he stopped and opened his eyes to see who it was that was kissing him. Red hair, freckles, and bright blue-violet eyes looked back at him. The iris of his eyes glowed, and John could see his pupils, which were usually slits like a cat, were large and he almost looked human. John felt right in that moment and he couldn't pinpoint what it was, but he was sure the storm had stopped raging. This felt good. This felt right. 

Alexander was kissing him, and they both just melted into it. John could breathe in the kiss, and so could Alex (using his gills of course). They were okay for now. This was good. 

Pulling away too soon is his opinion, Alex had dragged John back to the surface. The ship was still in view, but it was further than John knew he could swim, and Alex was having hard enough time just holding him at the top of the water where he could breathe. He was in no shape to drag him back there. 

Alex made that high pitched whistle again, and in a flash of lighting, there was a shadow of one of the aviens (the winged people). He flew through the wind like a pro and was circling above the pair in moments. It was Kidder. Richard Kidder Meade. 

Kidder dove down and grabbed John's waterlogged body by his shoulders, and once he'd picked him up, Alex disappeared again into the dark water. Using the wind to his advantage, Kidder skillfully dropped John back on deck in less than a minute and left to return to the sky. It seemed he knew what he was doing and had been through storms like this all the time. 

John just sat, once again soaked to his core with water, tired and thinking about _did that kiss mean anything or was it just to keep him alive?_

He was finally sent back to bed by Benjamin who was worried he needed rest. He got new clothes and a big thank you as he left. The crashing of the waves lulled him to sleep in his hammock, but he couldn't get rid of the thought of Alexander's lips on his. He couldn't stop thinking. 

His dreams were filled with fish and a lovely face. 


	10. Fish and Fantasies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He's a pretty boy with a pretty diary!" and "You're honestly the second tallest blond on the ship now. No longer the tallest."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French Translations are at the bottom.

It was quiet. The water was still. The wind was little. The sun was bright. The ocean was almost glass-like. 

And it was eight in the morning on a Sunday. Their voyage had been thrown off course greatly by the storm, but now, they were only a day away from the islands. 

Samuel Seabury, the resident priest, was sitting on the deck with his bible open and robes of white on preparing to preach or minister advice to whoever asked for either. He didn't force religion on anybody, and he was very understanding of other people's values. Sam was the best priest John had ever seen. He sat with his boyfriend, Charles Lee, who leaned against him and listened to the werewolf's rants on how homosexuality is redeemable according to the bible. He had a smile on his face and didn't seem to care, but it was clear he was happy. 

Washington sat on the stairs to the bow of the ship, watching everyone and making sure nobody got into trouble. Lady Washington was on the bow teaching Frances the French alphabet. 

Lafayette was sitting on the edge of the ship speaking to Hercules, who was trying to fix one of Harri's shirts that had been ripped in the storm. Hercules listened to Lafayette expressing his opinions on the idea of liberating the American Colonies and then moving on to liberate France. He had very strong ideas about it. 

Harri and Kidder sat in the crow's nest, just talking to each other and enjoying their alone time. 

The Queen's Rangers were making bets on how long they could hold their breath or who could touch the bottom and bring back proof. The latter bet was harder than they thought, considering the glassy water provided the illusion that it was shallow when really it was over one hundred yards deep. A silly sight. 

Alexander was sunbathing on his ledge, letting the fins of his tails rest atop the water. 

Tench and Fitzgerald were playing Draughts (which is now called Checkers) with golden and silver colored coins, getting to take them from the other when they got to jump a piece. 

McHenry was in his 'office' organizing things and trying to figure out what he might need to get and stock up on on the islands. 

Benjamin was taking the day off and had laid out a comforter from his bed on the deck and was laying in the sun. 

It was a slow, quiet day. John was leaning against the mast, writing in his journal. It was quiet, until... 

"Hey, Jack! Can I call you that?" Ben called out from his place on the deck with a little smile. John nodded and Ben continued with whatever he was going to say. "Watcha writin'?" 

John paused. Ben knew exactly what he was writing. He was writing about the kiss that happened not even seventy-two hours ago. His kiss with Alexander. He'd been obsessing over it, trying to figure out what the hell it meant. Was Alex harboring special feelings for him? Was it just to keep him alive? Did Alex even care if he died? _Oh God, what if he was overthinking it?_

"You should know, Tall Boy. After all, you're the Head of Intelligence, aren't you?" John casually responded and noticed Lafayette had halted his own conversation to see what was going on. 

"I am, but I'd like to know now. Watcha writin'?" He asked again. 

" _Mon Ami_ , I think he's trying to say he does not want you asking," Lafayette, or as everyone else knew him, Gilbert spoke up. John flashed him a thankful look. 

"Ah, Gilbert de Lafayette, always the one to ruin the fun," Ben teased him with a smile. 

Lafayette shook his head and left Hercules's side to walk over to John. " _Jean, puis-je voir?_ " He asked carefully and pointed to John's journal. John paused and thought. Lafayette wanted to see what he was writing, too. He decided to trust him and carefully handed his journal over. 

"Dick move! You show him your diary but not me?" Ben said in mock offense. 

"It's not a diary! It's a journal!" John flushed a bright red and clenched his fists. He didn't notice Alex peeping his head up from his spot to see what was going on. 

"Just admit it. It's practically the same thing anyway!" He didn't even look afraid. 

"He's a pretty boy with a pretty diary!" Lafayette giggled as he handed the book back to the blond. " _Oh mon Dieu, Je ne pensais pas qu'il se souciait autant d'Alexandre!_ " He kept his voice low and squealed to himself. Tench caught the Frenchman's words, though and looked up from his game with Fitzgerald. 

" _Devrions-nous payer nos paris?_ " Tench called out with a big smile and tossed one of Fitz's golden coins that he'd taken up in the air, only to get told a moment later by Fitz to stop bragging that he was winning. 

" _Non, non!_ " Lafayette shook his head. "Tis not time yet!" 

John was a whole new color. One cliche author would describe him in relation to a bright red fruit, but for the sake of not being cliche, I would describe the color of his face like that of getting severely sunburned on one's face. Trust me, I've gotten horrible sunburns on my own face before and it is not pretty. Remember kids, wear sunscreen. Especially when you spend five hours a day in the sun. His bright blue eyes were suddenly striking and standing out against him, and he was glaring daggers at Benjamin and Tench. To avoid getting caught by Alexander, though, he kept his mouth shut. No need to drag him into this when John didn't even know if their kiss meant anything. No need to escalate this. 

"Aw, _mon grand lion_ is red! Lovely eyes! _Jean_ , I did not appreciate them so before!" Lafayette awed over the brightness of them and started to try and find a worthy comparison to them. Surely they weren't the color of the ever-changing sea and sky. No, better. Too cliche of a comparison, he said. He fussed over it until he realized the perfect match. "The Olympic Blue! Ah, you will see when we return home! Tis a truly perfect color," he ranted. 

" _Mon amour_ , relax. We'll see when we get home tomorrow," Hercules said and stuck the needle he had been working with through his hat, as usual, once he was finished. It was really an interesting idea. Like sticking a pencil or quill through your hair or behind your ear so you never lose it. 

" _Oui_. Apologies, I am just  _très excité de voir que mon petit lion aura bientôt un partenaire_ ," he said and looked unaware that he had suddenly swapped languages in the middle of speaking. 

" _Mon petit lion_? My little lion?" John tilted his head slightly. 

Lafayette nodded. "He is like the smallest of lions! He can roar and fight like one but his looks can be much deceiving! If he is assigned to write, as well, you will see then. _Alexandre_ is _mon petit lion_." 

Ben sat up. "Well, not that I don't love that you're speaking French and all, but not all of us can understand you." 

"He's saying John has a crush on the little lion," Tench turned to Ben and summarized the situation. Fitz was too deep into thought to add his opinion, though it was clear he was listening. 

"I told you! But nobody believes Benjamin! The Head of Intelligence and nobody listens to him," he rolled his eyes. John snatched his journal back and listened to Lafayette and Ben and Tench all going back on forth on the scenario. 

Alexander was listening to the whole thing and ducked his head away from their sight before they could spot him. His face grew red and his eyes wide and he felt giddy. After a few moments of processing their conversation, a big smile spread from ear to ear. His freckles seemed to blend into his blush that was on its way to matching the color of his hair. Among this, his fangs were visible and his gills lay almost completely flat (which was an incredibly rare occurrence, as it only happened when he's at his calmest), which were both very rare. Alexander was normally very ashamed of his fangs, but that's a story for another time. His chest felt like bursting from the fast rate of his heart and his stomach swarmed with minnows (not butterflies. Minnows is a better example) struggling to escape. God Alexander is such a lovesick guppy. 

His fantasizing and fanboying was cut off by a sharp whistle from the crow's nest. Harrison was pointing out across the placid water towards a rowboat on the horizon. Within seconds, the crew was on their feet and ready for action again. Lafayette took to the sky, Ben was on his feet and grabbing his spyglass to see what it was, Washington was urging his wife and Frances below deck just in case something went wrong, the two aviens in the crow's nest were itching to fly to check it out, and Fitz and Tench were stepping away from their game of Draughts to join the fun. John stood still and watched it all. Alexander dove into the water and joined the Queen's Rangers, who all stopped and awaited orders from Captain Simcoe, who awaited orders from someone on deck. 

Ben's jaw dropped when he saw who it was and he rushed over to tell Captain Washington. 

"It's Hale! Hamilton, I need you and Lafayette to go help him!" Washington called out. "Simcoe, take your rangers and check the area he's coming from for the enemy! You have my permission to drown any redcoats as long as they aren't spies for us. Fitzgerald, you, Meade, and Harrison check the skies for enemy ships as well. Better safe than sorry!" 

The ship was alive with movement once again. Fitzgerald shifted himself a pair of wings similar to Meade's and everyone was off to retrieve the spy. 

"Everyone else, we're going to prepare the ship to welcome Captain Hale back! Benjamin, you know what to do," Washington kept barking orders and people got to work. John still hovered by the mast with his journal in hand, debating whether or not to join them. 

He'd only known Nathan for a day and a half before, but he decided that he would help. If anything happened to the spy, he'd feel guilty for escaping and leaving him behind without a chance, but knowing Woodhull was there to help break him out made him feel better. Now, seeing him on the horizon, it seemed like Nate had found a safe way out. John stuffed his journal in the inside of his shirt and got to work helping. 

Minutes of working paid off. Nathan was aboard  _Yorktown_ and honestly, things didn't look too bad. He was being embraced by all his friends and Navy family, but once everyone pulled away to get a good look at him, John was surprised to see he looked almost the same as the way he'd left him. Despite Nathan Hale being a smidge too skinny (which was caused by the fantastic services of malnutrition prisoners on Philadelphia received) and not having a clean shave or clean anything, really, he looked okay. A few scratches and bruises, just like John had endured, but still a bright, friendly smile. The blonds met eyes and Nate got to his feet to limp over to him and hug him. 

John Laurens and Nathan Hale, escapees from the same ship. There were a lot of thank-yous and welcome-backs said in the two-minute span of their hug which lasted a while because Nate couldn't get to his feet long enough to pull away. John was a good one inch taller than the other blond (which he seemed to be a few inches taller than almost everyone here but Lafayette and Washington), too, but that didn't seem to matter when Benjamin pulled him away and started to litter kisses across his face. 

"Nice to know you all got my message!" Nate said as he was sat down on Ben's comforter to rest. 

"Yep. And now you're honestly the second tallest blond on the ship. No longer the tallest," Ben laughed despite himself. 

"We're glad to have you back. Now, tell us everything. Tallmadge will ask for information later," Washington sat down on the other side of Nathan and everyone seemed to gather in a circle to listen to his stories. Alexander even pulled himself out of the water and propped himself up on his elbows to hear. When John wasn't looking, though, he watched him and his heart fluttered with those little minnows again and again. 

Nathan Hale was a very good storyteller. The water was still. The wind was little. The sun was bright. The ocean was almost glass-like. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for chapter 9. I'm also sorry for this in general. I'm trying. Nate is a pure boy. 
> 
> French Translations:   
> Mon Ami - My friend  
> Jean - John   
> Puis-je voir? - May I see?   
> Oh mon Dieu, je ne pensais pas qu'il se souciait autant d'Alexandre! - Oh God, I did not think he cared so much about Alexander!   
> Devrions-nous payer nos paris? - Should we pay our bets?   
> Non - No  
> Alexandre - Alexander  
> Mon grand lion - My tall lion   
> Mon amour - My love  
> Oui - Yes  
> Très excité de voir que mon petit lion aura bientôt un partenaire - very excited to see that my little lion will soon have a partner.  
> Mon petit lion - My little lion


	11. The Titanic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonding over literature has never been so ridiculously hilarious and before they leave the boat, John asks Lafayette something important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send constructive criticism! I love hearing from you guys! This chapter was mostly made for character development and having some fun but it gets good later. 
> 
> Warning: Mentions of sex, suicide, minimal swearing, and a lot of puns. Also spoilers for the movie Titanic and if you haven't read of the ill-fated voyage of the RMS Titanic in 1912 then there are also spoilers for that. 
> 
> French Translations are in the end notes.

Less than four hours, as he was told. Harrison had never been so bored. Everyone but himself was working, so here he sat in the crow's nest, his old paperback book _The R.M.S. Titanic_ laying closed on his lap. He'd read it over a million times by now, he was sure, and he could quote the most out-of-context moments at any given time. 

The book was about a man named Jack, a gambler, who won a game of poker and two tickets with his friend to be on the biggest, best ship in the world. The boat was a five-star luxury sailing from Europe to York City in the Colonies named R.M.S. Titanic. Throughout the book, it described the beauty of the ship and the joys the man experienced and then he found a woman named Rose. The rest is vague and the first time Harrison read it, he didn't understand the many innuendos until he reached what Kidder had called 'the juicy part' (just a sex scene in a carriage the boat was carrying). Then disaster struck when the ship had been traveling too fast through the North Atlantic ice fields and struck an iceberg. The ship went down, killing almost everyone aboard in either drowning them or having them freeze to death in the icy water (which Kidder had to keep reminding him was called Hypothermia [which is when your body loses more heat than it can produce and you slowly freeze to death]). Jack had been one of the victims, but his lovely maiden friend had been one to get out alive. 

Robert Hanson Harrison had a special place in his heart for this book. Thus the worn pages, fading cover, and cracking spine of the book after having it for so long, but now, he took extreme care with it. He let people borrow it from time to time, including lending it to Alexander to read and discuss later. What a grand discussion they'd had on how ridiculous the book was. By now, Harri was sure that almost everyone aboard _Yorktown_ had read his book. 

Except for John Laurens, who had officially been declared a crewmember of _Yorktown_ after Captain Nathan Hale had spoken to Captain Washington about it. John was now an official privateer (or whatever the hell the British called them. Pirates? Something like that. A demeaning name) and he had looked more than honored to accept the position in the Navy. Harrison wasn't sure if he had read the novel that had captured so much attention, but based on the minimal knowledge he had of Henry Laurens, John's father, he was sure that the newest crewmember was well-educated and would've at least heard of _Titanic_. He realized that he would need to ask him. 

John was speaking with Nathan and Alexander, and he didn't see any reason to not join their conversation. So he carefully placed the book on his inside coat pocket and walked to the edge of the crow's nest. He jumped. 

The wind caught Harri's wings and he slowly drifted down onto the deck. He walked up to the group who clearly didn't mind him joining and he was met with Nathan's excited recounting of what had happened after John left _Philadelphia_. 

"They nearly caught me, I swear! I know Ben calls me a bad actor, but I managed to keep from sweating and shaking like some of the others and I escaped the redcoat bastards the next day with Woodhull. After letting two imprisoned pirates escape, he's still safe, I'm damn well sure of it!" Nate said and finished his story, flopping onto his back afterward. John and Alex both snickered to themselves. Harrison saw this a lovely time to interrupt and pull the book from his pocket. 

"Apologies, boys, but I was bored and realized something about John. Have you ever read the wonderful novel _The R.M.S. Titanic_?" He asked and sat down with his legs crossed. Harri watched Nate and Alex's eyes light up as he revealed the worn book to them. It was a group favorite, clearly. 

John held his hand out to receive it and his face brightened. "My father always claimed it was a disgrace to not read such classical literature. A waste, I think. Some ridiculous thing he said. I have absolutely read my fair share of things like this. Not a personal favorite, but a lovely read nonetheless," he explained and after examining Harri's book he handed it back with the utmost care. 

"Wonderful! What's your favorite scene?" Alexander jumped at the chance to ask questions. Literally. He pulled his tail wholly onto the deck and was no longer restrained to his ledge. He didn't look uncomfortable, though, quickly moving to lay on his stomach and rest his chin on his hands. 

Private John Laurens faltered. He paused. He seemed speechless for a moment and Nate flashed Harrison a look that said 'Can you see it too?' and yes, he could. Within a moment, the conversation resumed. "Well, I always found some quotes toward the end ridiculous. My family nickname was Jack, so I had to get used to being teased about that a lot, as well," he explained. 

Alex lifted his head and let out a cry that he was sure everyone would hear. _"I'll never let go, Jack!"_ It was almost erotic, but not quite. Thank God. 

They all burst into a fit of laughter, but John's face flushed with red, overcome with embarrassment. 

Once the laughter had subsided, Alex spoke up again. "Like that?" He hummed. 

"Not quite, but you're very close. Harry, my brother, even pretended to fall off a raft we'd built one day for the sake of recreating that goddamned scene. But we've gotten off topic," John corrected and sat up straight in his spot. "My favorite scene is the end, where the ship is going down, everyone is fleeing, and the band plays on. I used to lay awake sometimes and wonder how sweet and yet bitter that music would be. What sound could those men possibly be playing?" 

There was a groan of agreement from Nathan. "And have you ever tried to play it? The music, I mean. Somber and yet so incredibly pure and lovely." 

A nod from the man with the honey-blond hair. "Absolutely. On many instruments." 

"How many instruments could you play?" Harri spoke up with a joking tone. 

"Many. Piano, guitar, violin, flute... I was practically forced to learn all the instruments there are to learn. I think my father was convinced that a southern gentleman needed to know every little thing about music and literature and arts to be a true gentleman. I only remember the guitar and the piano, unfortunately, but I could definitely play sometime for you all," John sighed and was clearly not fond of his childhood, but he spoke of it anyway. Like an unpleasant vacation. It's still a topic of discussion, no matter how poor the quality. 

"Oh! Once we get Jefferson and Madison aboard, I'm sure they'd love you to play with them. And Hanson, here. You'll all find a song that will fit all those instruments, I'm sure," Nate sat up excitedly. 

"I never cared for Mister Jefferson," Alexander rolled his eyes. 

"Was anybody asking?" Harrison responded, still keeping a playful air. 

"Dear Lord, you all act like brothers," the South Carolinian spoke up with his arms crossed and an exasperated expression on his face. 

"That, dear Laurens, is why we call them the Navy Family. I don't consider myself included, but as Benjamin's fiance, I assume I'd be included soon enough. Anyway, they act as brothers and Captain Washington is their father," Nate explained and saw said fiance emerging from below deck and got up to go to him. 

"So my opinions of _Titanic_?" John glared at Harrison. "Jack would have been a better character to live instead of Rose," he spoke like it was fact. 

"I disagree!" Alex objected. 

This made Laurens quirk a brow. 

"Rose was a young lady with a family and fiance and she had many obligations--" 

"Which she ended up abandoning." 

"--And the steward on the ship clearly said women and children first, which she was." 

"Are not all men equal? Regardless of gender, race, or opinions? Are not all people, even sodomites and criminals and traitors to the crown; are they not all equal?" John suddenly raised his voice and it was very clear what he meant to get across. 

Alexander was speechless, not only from being put directly in his place but also, as Harrison could see, he was lovestruck and clearly enamored with John's opinions of mankind. 

"The rafts should have been children first and then first come first serve. Jack would have been a much better character to make it to York City instead of Rose. He was bold and pursued what he wanted, regardless of the things he could have lost. He was passionate and hard-working and Jack would have made himself known almost as soon as he arrived," the southerner ranted and his description of Jack sounded eerily familiar. 

"I see your point," Alexander sighed and his shoulders slumped in defeat. 

"You both make wonderful points but your ranting exhausts me. Thank you for sending me to sleep! Wake me when we are in the harbor!" Harrison laughed to himself and laid on his stomach. His tail and wings slumped against the ground and he was lulled to sleep by the ranting and exchanging opinions and facts from Hamilton and Laurens. 

 

 

The islands were in view, and many people stood at the bow of the ship. Alexander and the Queen's Rangers had swum ahead and were surely already there by now. As the same with Harrison and Meade, but Lafayette had chosen to stay behind. Frances and Lady Washington stood near the edge of the boat, watching the water and approaching docks and the lovely city built into the jungle, hardly visible at all. 

John Laurens hung back from them and snatched Lafayette's hand to speak to him. 

"I am an American, as you know, and I have no goddamned clue of how to make it clear to Alexander that I have affections for him," he quickly explained. 

The avien took a moment to process this. John was asking for help from him! His face morphed into surprise and then joy and then seriousness. 

" _Monsieur, Alexandre_ is very... hard to woo, shall I say. Hard to impress. Mermaids show _amour_ by giving fish as gifts to their _amoureux_ , but as you are not a mermaid, I cannot be sure that will not offend him..." Lafayette seemed stumped but kept trying to offer his assistance. "I am sure if you offer him something unique to yourself and tell him forward, he will understand. _Mon petit lion's_ weakness is honesty, I promise." 

John didn't know what to do still, but he would need to find something. Perhaps a song or letter or something of a sort. Lafayette had said Alexander preferred being straightforward. He had to do that. 

As the _Yorktown_ pulled into the harbor, John could see people gathered on the docks, both to welcome and just working. People of all sorts. Centaurs, as he recognized from mythological studies, aviens, humans, mermaids, and so many others. Ropes were tossed down to some workers and they guided the ship into place, as well as mermaids in the water made sure that all was safe from below, too. The sails were folded and the lovely _Yorktown_ was tied into place. The gangplank was lowered and with their things, the crew began to leave. Some would come back, and some would stay on the islands for a while longer, or some would head out on another boat.

The people welcoming everyone cheered at the sight of these brave men, and John felt a pang of emptiness. Nobody would even know who he was, and though he loved Frances dearly, he had pledged his life to the Continental Navy now. He didn't regret this, but he was sure there would be days in the future he'd be overcome with overwhelming depression, and being torn from Frances would not help. But at least she was safe. 

He grabbed his things and took careful steps down the plank, and as soon as his foot touched the dock of the island he had sworn to protect, he knew he shouldn't be afraid of nobody knowing who he was. He felt welcome and loved already, regardless of who knew him. Regardless of who loved him. He knew he would be accepted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French Translations:   
> Monsieur - Mister/Sir  
> Alexandre - Alexander   
> Amour - Love  
> Amoureux - Lover   
> Mon petit lion's - My little lion's


	12. Like the City of El Dorado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Laurens gets to explore and learn the various cultures on the main island. Hamilton meets with rivals. Samuel Seabury educates some ignorant people and metaphorically murders them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Very religious!

Walking off the docks that were maybe five feet above the water was surreal. The city glittered like it was made of golds, silvers, polished precious stones, and pearls. It was a sweet sight, and as John stared at it, he was reminded of the legend of the lost gold city of El Dorado. Supposedly the city was located in the jungles of Spanish territory and it was made purely of gold. It was only a legend, he had been sure. But here he stood, he was reminded of the story anyway. 

The water was clear and the sky was similar, turning a rainbow of colors as the sun began its descent. The reefs nearby swarmed with fish and other animals that looked like sharks and turtles and... mermaids. _Yes_ , John decided, _there has to be a wider variety of creatures and peoples I have never seen before here_. All were welcome, after all. The islands weren't utopia, surely, but it was far superior to the outside world. 

He paused in the center of an almost empty town square and gazed at it all for a moment. The mermaids in the water and the aviens in the air and the centaurs and so many things he was unsure of what they were. He just stood still and felt like he should be stripping his boots and stockings off on such perfect and almost holy land. Nobody questioned him and his awed expression, and he knew he was going to love defending this land. In a moment of quiet, he sent praises up to his Lord, however damned he was sure he was for being attracted to another man, for bringing him and Frances here to this place. 

Nathan Hale stepped up next to him. Unlike John, he was empty-handed except for his book of information that had been returned to him recently. "It's lovely, isn't it?" He sounded breathless and quiet. 

John just nodded, almost too choked up to speak. He felt like his voice would betray and embarrass him if he did. 

"Come. I'll show you somewhere you can stay and tomorrow morning you can show yourself around. It's getting late," Nate invited and John followed. 

Nathan lead him along tiled and brightly colored streets to what seemed like an inn. 

 

Alexander was pleased to be back home. The warm water and calm coves and peacefulness sent a wave of calm through him. He let himself float atop the surface of the water near _Yorktown_ as the ship was unloaded of any contents it had. It wasn't much. The men had been extremely rationed and they wouldn't've been able to feed them if they had any more days at sea. That would have left Alex and the Rangers in charge of catching enough food for everybody, and Alex was sure nobody in the Rangers would want to do that, and he only gave fish to those he trusted and loved. Laurens, for example, who he hoped to see in their week or so stay on the largest of the many islands. Hopefully land would not hold them apart. 

His calm was interrupted by an all-too-familiar voice from the dock above. "Is that who I think it is, Jemmy?" 

Thomas Jefferson. 

The centaur with bright red hair, brighter than Hamilton's even, and a black horse half. His smile seemed to shine and he looked down at the merman in the water. He was clearly pleased to see his rival slash friend safe and returned from his time at sea. His boyfriend, James Madison, stood beside him. James looked utterly tiny beside the centaur with his short stature and skinny body, covered in a surprisingly thick layer of clothes. James was prone to sickness, but covering his skin with clothes and being hot was always apparently helpful (though nobody was really sure why). It was only in July and August he seemed to look at all normal regarding his clothes, but now, he was bundled up in as much as he could bear, and he didn't seem bothered a single bit by what Alex considered warm. 

"It is, Tommy. Good evening, Alexander! How were the travels? We heard there was a rough patch towards the end of the journey that delayed you," James politely spoke up and smiled at Alex. He smiled back but glared at Thomas, praying he wouldn't annoy him right now. 

"Well, fine sirs, it was wonderful. Mostly calm seas except for certain occasions, but a lovely time nonetheless. We retrieved Captain Hale and spy information and had a fine time," said the merman, who was still lying calmly atop the surface of the water. 

"Swell! You'll need to help me write sometime on the nature of storms. Describing nature is easy when it sits still, but moving nature is much harder. You could help!" James Madison the famous fiction author was asking Alex for help. Thomas sent a bitter glance at Alexander like he wasn't exactly pleased with the idea. Alexander sent a smug look back. 

"I would love to!" He cheerily agreed. 

Thomas smirked and the look in his eyes was mischievous and Alex hated it. "Well I heard from dear darlin' cousin of mine Gilbert de Lafayette that you offered a fish to a prisoner aboard the ship," the Virginian cooed too sweetly. Alex blushed and James gasped, obviously understanding what that meant. He loved the prisoner is what James could get out of it. 

Thomas knew he'd trapped him with his words and assumptions he had gotten from Lafayette, his 'cousin' (which was not true. Merely they were close enough that they felt like family, and Lafayette had been the one to coin the idea and nickname, and Thomas was more than happy to accept it. But Alex felt closer, as Lafayette called him 'brother'). Alex could not leave now. Leaving would prove their assumptions correct and make him look cowardly, but he wasn't sure exactly what to say that wouldn't be embarrassing. 

"His name is John Laurens. He hails from South Carolina. If you're anything like your cousin, you'll keep your goddamn trap shut and not say anything! Don't ruin my chance with him," Alexander threatened. 

"Tommy, please respect his wishes," James mumbled just as Thomas opened his mouth to reply. 

He closed it, only to open it back up seconds later. "I am sure there will be no problem, dear Hamilton. A southern ally... I cannot wait to meet him!" Thomas practically clapped giddily. 

"Well, grand," Alex mumbled under his breath. 

James yawned and grabbed Thomas gently by the cuffs of his sleeve and tugged, indicating a silent plea that he wanted to leave. Alexander had always admired their silent signals. They were both shy, so there was no wonder they'd come up with a system. Thomas looked like he understood immediately. "Lovely seeing you again, Hamilton. I'll see you around, perhaps. Have a wonderful night. I'm pleased to see you're home safe." 

With that, they left, and Alex went back to enjoying his quiet time. 

 

The island was quiet. After all, it was so very early in the morning. Six, last John had checked. He was already wide awake, sipping his coffee and looking out the open window of his room. Nathan and Ben were in the next room over and offered to pay for John, and so he had a lovely but small place to stay and a window he had opened to let in cool air. The ocean breeze was cleaner and sweeter than Charleston it seemed. 

He placed his coffee mug down on the window sill and grabbed the key to his room. _Time to go_ , he thought. He had intended to get an early start. Six in the morning was surely early enough to look around before the rush. John grabbed a small bag of change he'd been given from Nathan (because of course, the other blond boy was too kind to let him pass up the money) and he left. 

He quietly walked down the halls and down the stairs and he was out the door into the cool, crisp air. The tide was low and he could see exposed rocks and corals and shells in the ocean. With the light of the slowly rising sun, he could see a few bright red and pink clouds dotting the sky, but there was no threat of rain. The tiled streets before him lay practically bare except for the occasional owner of a shop beginning to open up or preparing to sell whatever they had. John turned left at the end of the street and was directed away from the docks. 

He walked along, deeper into the trees and jungle, and saw more colors. Flowers, fruits of all kinds (some that he recognized from his mother's garden back at Mepkin; some that were foreign and he was tempted to eat, but he knew better than to eat something unknown [it could be poisonous]), birds with both bright and dull feathers (the males being bright and flashy, of course), and a whole number of unidentifiable plants that he wanted to draw and paint and study before they returned to sea. Next time they returned, he mentally decided, he would need to request more time so that he could have the free time to do these natural studies. 

He reached what appeared to be a field of some kind. Cleared of undergrowth but still covered by the shade of overhanging trees and foliage, the area was marked with bright paints and tiles and flags. He would need to figure out what game it was and learn it. Hopefully, it wasn't a dangerous game...

John turned around and proceeded back to the center of town where the marketplace was. He could see more people there now, and he was interested to see what was going on. 

As soon as he strode into the lines of little shops (similar to a modern-day flea market or an outside mall) he was welcomed with smiles and people announcing to the early-risers things they were selling. One man was selling necklaces and other jewelry of different kinds and he gestured to John with a cry of "You sir! You would look most dashing with an earring!" and that made him laugh. He wasn't totally against the idea, though. He might ask Alexander later. He trusted him with such a decision, and he needed to find something to give him to proclaim his own love anyway. Isn't that why he was here? 

As he walked along, deep in thought, something out of the corner of his eye caught the sun and he was drawn to it. 

An old, gray-haired lady was selling instruments in a smaller area. Strings, woodwinds, and percussion instruments that looked complex and hard to make. He was drawn to a guitar that lay on the ground near the woman's feet. It looked new and shiny and John was called to play it, even if just for a moment. 

"You may play it if you wish," the lady had clearly seen him looking and gestured to the guitar. The gray strings and light brown color seemed to call to him. 

John carefully picked it up and sat beside her, holding it carefully in his lap. He checked that it was tuned properly before he played an experimental 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star'. It felt right and beautiful and it made him feel calm. He took a deep breath and looked at the gray-haired lady that was selling the instruments for permission to go on. She nodded. With that, he continued. Little, careful movements of calloused fingers over the neck of the guitar and light, gentle strums against the tight strings produced the most lovely sound. He closed his eyes and his breathing leveled and he _played_. Oh God, he played. He played what he imagined the band on the _Titanic_ played in those final moments, so bittersweet and somber. As he played, he imagined putting words to it, and as soon as he thought of the words, he was reminded of a certain redhead that he hoped awaited him in the water. 

He opened his eyes when he had finished and saw the lady smiling at him. "Keep it," she urged, "I can tell you're the one I've been waiting to take that one. Someone with a bright spirit that I know will make good use of it. The only payment I needed was that song you played for me." 

John didn't speak. He just stood up and wrapped the leather strap around his shoulder and mouthed a 'thank you' to her. His expression said it all. Clearly, she understood that just playing that was very emotional for him. 

He moved forward, already trying to produce lyrics. 

 

Sam had a soapbox in his arms and a Bible atop it and he placed it down carefully near the center of the city just as John was nearing. He picked up the Bible, climbed on the soapbox, and stood as tall as he could. 

"Hear-ye, Hear-ye! Rejoice, all of you! All is forgiven, all is well! The freedom of the islands and yourselves are well protected in the hands of the Lord and the Continental Navy! Listen, all!" He cried and waved his arms around to gather attention. His necklace sparkled silver against the black and gold and white robes he donned. 

"Lord have mercy! A werewolf preaches to all the rest of us about safety!" Someone shouted back. 

"Sir, I respect you view me as low, savage, and quite the vile creature, but I must ask for the sake of everyone else here, are you of Christian faith? Or Catholic, perhaps?" Samuel asked and smiled directly in the face of adversity. A pale man who wore a scowl was the target of the question. People started to pause to see what was happening and to listen to the priest. 

"As a matter of fact, yes!" He puffed out his chest, this stranger. 

"Then sir, you must know that the Bible says not to judge others, correct?" 

The pale man faltered. 

"The Lord says we shall love others as we wish ourselves to be loved, and that we are not to judge! That we are to await His own judgment when the day comes, and then people shall be given punishment. Have a lovely day, sir, and thank you for being a part of this!" Sam happily waved at the now very flustered and red man. It seemed the werewolf was not one to be torn down by negativity. 

"A f*g teaches these lessons! Doesn't the Bible speak against sodomy and being gay?" A new voice crowed. 

"As I said, the time for judgment is not now. It is later when the Lord shall call us up to the perfect world he is building for us all who repent. As for being gay, I know I will still go to heaven, dear family, because the Bible of the Lord declares all who put faith in Christ as their savior will be saved and forgiven, regardless of their crimes," the priest smiled brightly and John was speechless for the umpteenth time that day. He had never been taught this way. He had always thought sodomy a sin that would damn a man to hell even if he did believe in Christ. He felt lighter, somehow. Was this all really true? Was all the talk he heard growing up in South Carolina false? "Repent, family! Brothers, sisters, and all who go by another title, you will be forgiven!" 

People cheered and Sam stepped off his soapbox. 

John would need to ask Sam about this later. 

 

That night, the city was decked out in bright colors and there was music that John didn't recognize, but he appreciated it nonetheless. He had tried some of the island cuisine and was honestly very pleased with it, spending little of the money Nate gave him. The city was alive with fireworks and a celebration that _Yorktown_ and her crew had made it safely back. It was apparently not unusual, but John was given back Frances for the night and he caught Captain Washington and his wife smiling and laughing and dancing together almost as soon as they left the Laurenses together. 

John celebrated with his daughter, who urged her father to get some of the fireworks and shoot them off for her. He only bought three, and he shot off the first two and gave the last to Frances for her to enjoy. It warmed his heart to see her laugh and squeal as the fiery colors of blue and red and gold erupted with the stars in the sky. He silently thanked himself for putting his guitar in his room when a firework misfired and exploded across the ground. Nobody was harmed, but still, it was a shock. 

He never saw even a hint of Alex near the party or even in the harbor the whole night. 

He finally sent Frances to bed in her room in the inn when it was around half past nine, claiming that it was definitely past her bedtime. She didn't disagree, thankfully. So now that he was alone and already in the inn, he grabbed his guitar in his room and he practiced his tune and wrote lyrics to a song for Alexander. He would sing Alexander a love song. 

When he woke up in the morning with the papers scattered across the floor and his lyrics finished and almost everybody else in a hangover, he was asked about his premature absence from the fun. John only shrugged and smiled and on that Wednesday morning, after so much had happened in the past month of his life, he answered with the words, "Something wonderful happened and there are people who have changed me, and I intend to make something to thank them." 

In their hungover and still slightly-drunk states, nobody knew what he could've meant. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Laurens the perpetual angst machine is turning his life around, one step at a time. Or... one strum at a time. In case you didn't understand the poetry at the end like the others, he basically meant that he's building a song for them because they've changed his life for the better and he wants to thank them. It was a rocky start, but he's thankful for all they've done. 
> 
> No, I'm not going to come up with lyrics and write a songfic. I might later on my Tumblr, but as of now, no. 
> 
> All the things Samuel proclaimed are true. If you dig deep enough in the Bible, you'll find what I mean. Sorry for not providing verses and stuff but it's late for me and I kinda don't want to look them up. 
> 
> Have a truly lovely day! Happy Easter!


	13. Pull My Heartstrings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Music has meaning, Jefferson is an ass, and Nathan Hale exposes a traitor and a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John is a common name and it's bothering me that so many people are named that. Thankfully, Laurens went by the name Jack, so this solves some future issues. Anyways, this is important for you to know for the future, should you care to read it. ;)

Sitting quietly on the dock at sunset, John had the lyrics of his song written on paper in front of him. It was high tide. Ships were coming into the harbor like usual, settling down for the night. The Schuyler's ship was expected tomorrow, along with a few others. Yorktown was expected to set sail again in a few days. 

John hadn't seen Alex since he had gotten to the island. He wanted to change that and began to play a few notes from a song he was sure Alex - or any sailor, really - would recognize. A song of patriots. Freemen. Soldiers. Every boy knew it from singing it in taverns, and it was the true song of the revolution. Since Washington's army had been around, the song was common knowledge. But unfortunately, the lobster-backed British had banned it as soon as the army had escaped. Washington was something of a legend, from John's knowledge, but he was a very humble, fatherly man and his experience in battle was nothing to shrug at; Washington was an icon of the revolution.

But music. He would begin with Yankee Doodle. John wasn't going to begin with his love song. No, he'd save that for when he had Alex's attention and audience. 

"Yankee Doodle went to town, riding on a pony," John began, playing the proper tune after being sure his new guitar was tuned properly itself. "He stuck a feather in his hat and called it macaroni." Nothing yet. "Yankee Doodle, keep it up. Yankee Doodle Dandy. Mind the music and the step and with the girls be handy." The waves rose and fell and John wondered if sound above water would carry under it. Perhaps this was a bad idea. 

Five more times of singing the chorus to the song and he finally saw him. A familiar multicolored tail flicking along one of the stilts holding the pier up hinted him. The shadowy figure slunk around in the water, clearly wary of the barnacles and oysters growing and trying not to reveal himself. 

John switched songs. 

A slow, almost sorrowful song began to spill from the strings on his guitar and John poured his feelings from his lips. He closed his eyes and let himself sing and only opened his eyes to check his lyrics and avoid slipping up, though he'd practiced multiple times (once in front of Gilbert himself, to which he was rewarded with a bright smile and a kiss to the cheek [nothing bad. Platonic kisses, he was told, were common in France]). When he finished, he saw no shadow or tail and he was afraid that Alexander had swum off. 

Panic bubbled up and John carefully put his guitar down to peer under the dock and held on carefully to the edge to avoid falling in. A pair of bright eyes and wide pupils shone back at him. The sun caught them just right that they reflected in the shadow of the pier. 

"Alexander?" He held onto the boards and laid down so he could look closer and not fall in. His head nearly touched the water by now. "Is that you?" 

The merman's head rose above the water fully. "You wrote that for me?" His voice sounded emotional and he swam closer. 

"Of course. After you kissed me, I was wondering what it meant and I talked to a few people and I want to try something with you. I want to try loving you. If it doesn't work out for one or both of us, then I can understand that and we can stop, but I want to at least give whatever this is a try. If you're willing," he felt blood rush to his head, though he wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or hanging upside down. 

Alex was in front of the southerner's face in a second and he smiled. Now John felt his face warm up and he was certain the blood was there because he was blushing. 

"Well? Do I get an answer?" John wondered, and he was met with soft, wet lips.

Some might say that it would feel gross kissing someone with water or some other liquid on their lips, but John decided that he liked the feeling. The meaning behind it overpowered the negative feelings by a landslide. It was brief, but it definitely got the meaning across, and when they pulled apart, the Carolinian thought he'd almost fall in. His body has relaxed while kissing Alex and if he hadn't been laying down, he would definitely have made a splash. Opening his eyes, he found smiling ones looking back at him. 

"I would love to give it a try, Laurens. Thank you for that song. I would love to hear you play it some other time," Alex cupped his cheeks from upside down, however hard it was and pressed another kiss to his nose. 

"Thank you. Now I better sit up again or I might pass out," John smiled and pulled himself upright again. Moments later, Alex was heaving his body onto the dock and sitting beside him. They sat in peace for a quiet moment, watching the sunset, until there was a bright green flash across the horizon. 

The boards behind them creaked and John turned to see an unfamiliar face. He was tall and a brighter redhead than Alexander and he wore a bright orange shirt that clashed with his hair and looked like a big fashion mistake, but what did they know, and he had freckles. Most importantly, he was a centaur. He walked light on his hooves so that he wasn't heard. 

"I come out here to speak with Alexander and find him with his new southern sugar daddy. You're Laurens, aren't you?" He spoke and had a unique accent of southern drawl and French lilt. His words drew John to nod, but he had never heard the term 'sugar daddy' and wasn't sure what he meant by that. It sounded bad, almost, based on the context. "Lovely! A pleasure, Laurens. I'm Thomas Jefferson, a dear friend of your new baby, and I must say, you've stirred some talking around here. The oh-so-famous man of Henry of South Carolina, a turncoat! Who would've guessed!" 

"Pardon me, Mister Jefferson, but I would prefer not to speak of my father," John cut in as soon as he could. 

That brought Thomas to a screeching halt. Not only because he wasn't willing to talk about 'Henry', but by how formal he was. "Oh. No need to call me something so formal, sir. No need!" He insisted and skirted around the topic of family easy. 

"Thomas, I strongly advise you to shove off and I'll speak with you later. Thank you, have a lovely night," Alex spoke up once Thomas was finished. 

"Ah, but honestly, Alexander, I expected more from you. Choosing a rich turncoat boy as a sugar daddy is awfully shallow of you, ain't it?" He seemed almost too giddy. 

"Who told you?" The merman was biting his tongue and looked upset. 

"Who else? Lafayette! The dear Frenchman and I are closer than you think. I coaxed him to spill who you were so interested in. A little whiskey goes farther with him than I thought it would!" He laughed, but Alex's face contorted into more anger. His pupils shrank into slits and his gills flared. 

"Excuse me, but what's a sugar daddy?" John asked quietly and looked confused. 

"John, I don't think--" 

"Wonderful question!" Jefferson clapped his hands together and plopped down beside, or rather, between the pair. "A sugar daddy is a partner that will pay someone, the sugar baby, for performing sexual acts with him. In this case, Alexander has found you, Mister Laurens, one of the richest men from the southern colonies in America, and he's been particularly sweet on you and you on him, and I can only imagine it's because there is more than the average man can see. I, however, am far from average. I can see something beneath the surface here. Mister Laurens, you see, Alex has a habit of using men with power and money and then discarding them to climb up the metaphorical ladder onto another, more powerful person. Have you been paying him for something? What is going on? You must absolutely be his sugar daddy. Undoubtedly." 

Jefferson's long-winded speech made John flush and cringe and Alex's gills flared and it was clear he was unhappy with this and about to go on a rampage if John did not cut in _now_. 

"Pardon me, Mister Jefferson, sir, but I have no money to give. I was made a prisoner and had nearly everything stripped from me. I have no money, and I absolutely have no sexual relationship with Alexander Hamilton. And adding to this, you said you were far from average and could see something nobody else could, and as a response, I say you are absolutely right. You are far, far below average and too shallow to see that Alexander and I are better than the people you think we are," John ranted and he was fuming by this point. Alex was in wonderment of his gall to talk back in such a way to Jefferson. In fact, the merman was taking mental notes. 

"FURTHERMORE, Sir, you are making an ass out of yourself and me for assuming such... such wild accusations! I have had no sexual relations in years and I do not intend to be talked down to as a 'sugar daddy' by some up-tight centaur with no respect for my lovely partner! Good day sir!" John finished, his eyes now wild and filled with a blue fire that would terrify any man. Thomas was frantically getting back to his feet by this point and practically cowering. 

"But I was--" 

"GOOD DAY!" John leaped to his feet and Thomas was sent running. 

It was peaceful again. For now, at least. 

"John, I can't believe you!" Alex cheered and drew him in close once John sat down again. 

"Good believe me or bad believe me?" 

"I'm proud of you. God, Thomas has been needing a dressing-down for a while now, but I never thought you would be the one to do it. I thought it would be Ben or Washington, but you! That was better than I ever would have thought!" 

"Really? You're proud of me?" 

"Absolutely! Thank you." 

"Is there any way what I did is good enough to earn a kiss?" John tilted his head and Alex felt his insides melt at the adorable expression. 

"All you need to do is ask." 

John smiled and placed his palms against Alex's cheeks, and he only now realized that everything about the pair seemed to fit perfectly. Their hands and the spaces between fingers, hands against cheeks, and... "May I kiss you?" 

"Yes." 

And their lips. 

 

 

"Captain Hale, it's my duty as the head of intelligence to interview you, one of our most trusted spies, and confirm what you wrote in your journal. Is that quite alright?" 

"Of course, Tallmadge." 

"Wonderful. You wrote about a traitor and a secret ally. One that got you caught and one that showed favor to you and our cause after you were caught. Could you elaborate? Perhaps tell us who these two men are?" Ben sat across from Nathan in Washington's office with the notebook open in front of him. Washington himself was listening in as he wrote a letter, most likely for someone to deliver to the other ships. 

"The traitor is Benedict Arnold. He has been sending letters to the British ships and informing them of classified information including intelligence, spies, war plans, and coordinates. Luckily, I managed to intercept and burn some of the letters. That is until he outed me as a spy and that letter got through to the Brits own head of intelligence, Major John Andre," Nate informed and Washington looked up with a shocked and disbelieving expression. One of his most trusted men... "Arnold has been speaking to Andre while Andre was under the alias of John Anderson. Major Andre took me in as a spy to later be hanged, but I escaped, and you know the rest of that story." 

"Are you sure it was Arnold?" Ben was just as shocked as Washington. 

"One hundred percent. Same handwriting, no alias, and he knew things nobody else could have. He's been stealing information from you, Benjamin. I know this all for fact," Nathan said and ignored the shocked expressions. 

"His ship comes in tomorrow. Hopefully, we can stop all this before he exposes the coordinates of the islands. Our other spies... Are they safe? Have they been burning letters, too?" Ben was worried about their spy ring now. 

"Culper senior and junior are safe to my knowledge. Our courier is, too. However, I can't ensure the safety of Anna or Mary anymore. I lost track of them. Culper senior is still on _Philadelphia_ , to my knowledge, and junior is a personal paid servant to some of the admirals of the British navy. Hamilton's identity is safe, too, as you can see. He's still playing a part as pretending to be a human prisoner of us, and the British are trying to work up an exchange for him. They're mostly clueless." 

Benjamin wrote frantically as Nathan spoke, taking notes and making ideas. His mind was running faster than usual and his adrenaline was rushing like he was in a fight. "And who was the ally? The friend?" 

"John Andre himself. Showed me pity. Held out my sentence and recommended not hanging me until they got to the mainland. He hasn't exposed any other spies if he knows them, and I'm certain he knows about Culper senior by now, if Arnold has been speaking with him," Nate smiled like he was proud that Arnold had been caught in his own, supposedly flawless, plan. 

Washington got to his feet and stepped closer. "Andre himself?" 

"Yes, your Excellency. Andre himself." 

"You're certain?" Ben clarified and Nate's face only got brighter. 

"Absolutely. Andre is a friend. You can trust me on this. All that I say during this meeting is true." 

"Ben, I expect you to be ready to take Arnold into custody tomorrow when his ship arrives. He will be replaced by Captain Angelica Schuyler. Captain Hale, thank you. I also want you to find a way to speak with John Andre and make him an official ally. This meeting is over. I need to find Lafayette." 

Washington left, and both Ben and Nate knew it was because he was in desperate need of someone to hug and talk to. Lafayette was the one man he was certain he could trust, always and forever. He may have seemed like an awkward, winged Frenchman, but Lafayette could keep secrets as if his life depended on it, and Washington could speak to his 'adopted son' about classified things and be sure they couldn't get out. Ben had faith in Lafayette keeping these secrets, too. 

Sometimes, you just need a hug and reassurance from one person specifically, and both the men in the office understood that. 

 

 

_From Captain John Bolton of the Continental Navy to Major John Anderson of the British Navy,_

_We both know we're under a false name. We both know the spies and the traitor that is Benedict Arnold. We both know that you are not a supporter of the British Navy. I would like to request that you burn this letter, send me a response if you are open to an alliance, and do not speak of this to anybody else. Major Anderson, we need your help. I need a letter that proves I have found the correct man and ally and friend. You may keep your position and become a member of the spy ring yourself, or you may request to join us on our own ships yourself and we will find you a place. It is your choice._   
_Keep in mind, though, that time is limited. Major Anderson, I would be most pleased if you could join our force. You know more than I would be comfortable with, but it seems you respect the cause enough to allow my fiance to live and to not out our spies, and for that I thank you. I am in your debt now. We would be delighted to have another friendly face amongst our homes. We would be delighted for you to agree._   
_Major, this is an open call for an alliance. I would be pleased if we continued to go by our aliases._

_Courtesy of Captain Benjamin Tallmadge_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know, I went on hiatus, but I'm back for now. Things may not make sense yet, but hopefully, they will soon.


	14. Teachers and Traitors, Languages and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette has trouble understanding English and Benedict Arnold reaches an untimely demise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French Translations are in the endnotes. :)   
> Kudos are appreciated but so are comments! I appreciate your feedback!

The ship, _West Point_ , was expected that night. Everyone had their commands of what to do. Benjamin was supposed to arrest Arnold himself as a few others stormed the ship, Alexander would snag him if he tried to jump overboard, Nathan was going to confiscate any letter he'd have as proof of his treason (although he had saved roughly ten in his notebook but they were of poor quality by now), John (Laurens, of course. Some had taken to calling him Jack) was supposed to keep the townspeople from interfering, and Washington himself was going to assign a fate to the poor man. Well. Poor was an overstatement. There would be no mercy for a traitor like Arnold. 

But right now, they were welcoming a new British warship, _Setauket_ , commandeered by Major Edmund Hewlett (a spy on the inside) himself. He was to be promoted to a true Continental Navy Captain or Admiral soon for his efforts and loyalty. His spying days were over now that his cover had been blown to steal one of the most heavily armored ships of the Brit's Navy. One man, as they welcomed the small but mighty ship to the docks, was most excited to see Hewlett again. 

It was no secret the relationship that Hewlett had with Simcoe. The ruthless man that commanded the Queen's Rangers had a soft spot for him, and it was obvious. Simcoe had various problems from what could only be assumed as an abusive or troubling childhood, and his Rangers and Hewlett managed to support him through that and overall help him be better despite his mental illnesses (they had no official name for it yet but it affected one like an infection from his brain, so it only seemed like the proper title). Simcoe had been waiting eagerly for Hewlett's return, and as the Major stood on the starboard bow facing the crowd and his friends and commanders, his smile was bright and clear, like the sky on that perfect day. 

The plank was lowered and men started to step off the ship to greet their families, friends, lovers, and many others that had relationships with them. John stood at the back of the crowd, watching Hewlett as he was one of the last men to exit _Setauket_. The crowd had dispersed by the time he was on the docks. He was smiling and greeting people like he knew everyone (which he most likely did). He shook hands with Washington himself before spotting a familiar masked face in the water. 

Simcoe was smiling back at him and in seconds, Hewlett had stripped his boots, jacket, and bag of his belongings to jump into the water and be beside Simcoe. The proper powdered wig of a British man had been discarded in the ship, but some of the powder still clung to his hair and in the water, it was washed away. 

"I missed you a lot. I considered calling for your rangers just to see your face again," Hewlett gushed and was holding back from kissing Simcoe. 

"My mask is still on, though. You have yet to truly see my face." 

"Ah, yes, John, ever the man to wear armor and avoid vulnerability. Don't you realize that that stupid helmet of yours is getting in the way? You could've at least taken it off when I got into the harbor. It doesn't make you weak or vulnerable to take it off, but I wouldn't ever force you to keep it on. I know what it means to you," Hewlett kissed his eyelid, right in the space in the mask so that Simcoe could see. 

Simcoe didn't even look offended at his insults to the mask. "It makes my rangers and I feel safer, Major." 

"I would prefer not being called Major anymore. I belong to the Continentals now, not the British." 

That brought a smile to both of their faces. 

"You know I have been waiting a while to hear you actually say those words," Simcoe cooed. 

Hewlett kissed him on the other eye. "I know." 

John decided now was a good time to leave them alone and go off to find another thing to do. He had only gotten to the end of the docks when he heard French-accented shouting. 

"NON! No no no! It is not said like that! _Gilbert_! _Gggg_! Not Gill-bert!" 

Lafayette was practically shrieking at Ben Tallmadge and Charles Lee. He was shouting his name and John couldn't help but be curious, so he walked closer. 

"Don't be such a wet blanket, Gilbert. It's just a name," insisted Lee, but that only made Lafayette's face flush a bright, furious red. Ben looked a little nervous like he'd tried to mediate and control the argument but only gotten dragged into it himself. 

" _JUST A NAME!_ I will have you know that _my_ name is very of importance to me and I will not have some _connard_  offend me with his wrong ideas of what my name _is_!  _Merci et bonne journée!_ " The Frenchman screamed with a red face and a strong accent. His words were almost indecipherable. Ben took a step back but Lee didn't back down. 

"What is going on here?" John said just as Lee cut in with another remark. 

"Gilbert," he began, mispronouncing his name, "relax. It's only a name, first of all, and secondly, you said 'very of importance', which is incorrect English." 

Lafayette let out a scream and his feathers were obviously ruffled. His hair, too. Lafayette looked a mess. " _L'Anglais m'offense, Laurens! Il prononce mal mon nom et corrige ma grammaire! L'anglais est difficile! Aidez-moi, chère Laurens, s'il vous plaît! Je serai dans votre dette!_ " His grabbed John's hand and squeezed it tight, pleading for help. 

"Uh... I guess. Lee, I don't think you understand how hard it is to learn more than one language. How many do you know, again?" John asked and Lee's face went blank. 

"...None." 

"That's right. So you don't know how hard it is to learn a second or third language," John sighed. 

Lafayette spoke up again. "How many do you know, _Monsieur Laurens?_ " 

"Seven." 

Three shocked sounds followed his answer and Lafayette's face lit up. " _Sept langues? Est-ce vrai?_ " 

John pulled a hand away to start counting on it. "Latin, Greek, English, Spanish, French, Italian, and a little German, but that last one is a bit rusty." 

" _Un héro! Un héros des langues du sud!_ " Lafayette cried and jumped up and down with a giddy smile on his face. Ben and Lee just looked at the two in awe. "Who is a moist towel now, Lee!" 

"It's called a wet blanket, Lafayette," Lee corrected but Lafayette was now too happy to be bothered by such corrections. Lee was put in his place and he couldn't care less about his opinion now, and he knew he had someone who understood better than anybody else. 

"Well, that doesn't help the name debate. It's still Gillbert, isn't it?" Ben spoke up and John shook his head. 

"It's pronounced _Gilbert_. Like, the G is pronounced an X, like at the beginning of the word xylophone, but a little softer. _Gilbert_ de Lafayette," John helpfully explained and the pair in front of him nodded in understanding. Lafayette looked pleased that John could help explain it better than he could. His feathers were back as they could be now, but his hair was still messy. John made a mental note to point that out to him once they were gone. 

When they did leave, John smiled politely at Lafayette and the avien gave him a kiss on each cheek as a thank you. " _Merci_ , Laurens. _Merci_." 

 

 

Arnold arrived in a big ship that was heavily armed and probably one of the larger ships that they had. It made _Setauket_ look small, even though _Setauket_ itself was heavily armored and one of the stronger ships that the British had clearly underestimated. However, _West Point_ was going to be stolen back tonight from the traitorous bastard onboard. 

Everybody was in place, and as the plank was lowered, Benjamin pushed his way up it, followed by Nathan and others, much to the surprise of the crew. Hercules Mulligan stood at the only exit to keep the sailors from trying to escape. Lafayette and a few other aviens were circling above the ship (except for Harrison, who was sitting politely at the tiptop of the ship's mast, just barely out of reach of the two men in the crow's nest). Simcoe and the rangers were patrolling the water underneath alongside Alexander, waiting, it seemed, for a man with enough gall or cowardice to jump in. John, Lee, and Seabury were holding the townspeople back at the entrance to the dock and claiming it was 'official but confidential business'. 

The trap was set. 

Arnold stood at the helm of West Point, looking confused but satisfyingly scared. Ben walked closer and pulled his pistol from where it sat, loaded, in the holster on his belt. The pressure against the front of his thigh was lightened as he pulled the gun from its rest and pointed it at Arnold. 

"Benedict Arnold, you are being arrested for crimes against the Continental Navy and the Islands we call our home! If you try to escape or stage a mutiny, I will be forced to shoot you or, if you happen to jump overboard, the Queen's Rangers are waiting and will have no mercy. If you have friends in the sky, so do we, and they will also give no mercy and you will likely fall to your death. I suggest you give up and we will possibly spare you," Benjamin announced with a loud voice that clearly unnerved Arnold. 

"Tallmadge, I committed no such act. We both know this," Arnold's shaky voice came back and he was glancing around at the sky, the water, at Nathan who was having trouble prying open the Captain's quarters without the key, at his crew who were all confused, betrayed, and scared, and he looked at Ben last. 

"The logbook Captain Hale had written in while he was a spy and prisoner begs to differ, along with the letter from Major John Andre on my desk." It was pleasing to see the color drain from Arnold's face. "I suspect you have more letters proving our accusations in your quarters, which is why Captain Hale himself is going to find them. It was you, after all, who got him and nearly the rest of our spies caught." 

"I... Uhm..." Arnold couldn't formulate a response, but as Ben stepped closer, he stepped back. That was until he hit the edge of the ship. Any further and he could fall and be unsalvagable. The masked faces of the rangers glittered a grim creme color in the setting sunlight and rising moonlight. Tench Tilghman watched from the bow of the ship, ready to give the word to the aviens if something happened. Harrison was trying to keep out of reach of the men in the crow's nest who were trying to shoo him away or climb up and hit him or grab at his tailfeathers (all of which were failing). 

"Give up." 

"Tallmadge! He's found it!" Fitzgerald cried. He and Nathan were running out of the quarters, clutching a multitude of letters, correspondence, in their hands. Peggy Shippen Arnold, Benedict's wife, was following behind them and crying. 

"Please! Don't kill my husband!" She screamed and fell to her hands and knees. Nobody moved to help her. They had to focus on Benedict to avoid losing the damned traitor. 

Arnold stripped off his hat and coat while Ben was glancing at Peggy and forced his arms into a right-handed salute. When Ben glanced back, it seemed like Arnold was waiting to be shot. 

"I will never surrender to a lost cause, Tallmadge. You should know this. If I am wrong, then curse my name and damn me to hell," Arnold spoke and Ben placed his fingers on the trigger, ready to shoot at any second. 

He squeezed it. He hadn't been paying attention to Peggy, though, and just as he fired his shot, she knocked his body to the ground and Ben missed. He missed. His pistol clattered across the deck but as he looked up, Arnold had not been shot. Even though he hadn't been shot, he stumbled back and lost his salute and he fell over the edge of the ship. It happened so fast that nobody would be able to tell someone what happened without there being some disagreement, but it was clear with a splash that Arnold would not be surviving to go to trial. Benjamin jumped to his feet and looked over the edge, only to find a clear surface. It wasn't until moments later he saw a cloud of red-tinted water rise up. There were no clothes or boots or anything that came floating up. Nothing but the red that bubbled upwards showed what was going on under the surface. 

"BENEDICT!" Peggy screamed and Ben had to rush forward to keep her from jumping overboard. 

Lafayette dove down from the sky and helped grab her. Alongside Lafayette, Harrison jumped down from his perch to help Missus Arnold, now a widow, to the shore. 

The ship began to clear out and Washington stood on the dock, waiting for Benjamin's report. Nathan and Fitz were packing all the evidence they found into a bag, Tilghman was calling down the aviens, and the other men they had were escorting the crew off the ship. West Point was abandoned in minutes. Benjamin was one of the last off. 

"Captain Tallmadge, where is Arnold?" Washington looked concerned more than confused. "Didn't you arrest him?" 

"No, sir. He refused to comply and I was about to wound him to keep him from fleeing, but Missus Arnold pushed me, causing me to miss, and Arnold tripped and fell into the water. The Rangers are taking care of him now. Alexa-- I mean, Hamilton, sir, should be helping, as well," Ben nervously reported. 

Washington was quiet for a moment, his face blank of expression and his lips tight in a line. "I would have had him hang anyway. I must say I'm not surprised. Good job, son. I believe it's time to read that letter from Andre." 

"Yessir." 

 

 

_Captain John Bolton,_   
_You have reached your secret ally. I would be more than delighted to assist you in any way I can. No need to be so persuasive, sir, as I know these letters should be brief and to the point, not to mention vague and I am sure you have other things to do that will take up more of your time. I will be sending trained seagulls to you to carry my letters, although I know it seems strange, that is how the British communicate without being caught. Now you see how Arnold managed to remain hidden and unsuspected for so long._   
_I will keep your spies safe as long as I can. Thank you for your offer, sir. I sincerely hope you catch that son of a bitch traitor, Arnold. Please send frequent updates if you find it convenient._   
_Your dearest ally,_   
_Major John Anderson._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French Translations:
> 
> Non- No  
> Connard- please use Google translate instead   
> Merci et bonne journée!- Thank you and good day!  
> L'Anglais m'offense, Laurens! Il prononce mal mon nom et corrige ma grammaire! L'anglais est difficile! Aidez-moi, chère Laurens, s'il vous plaît! Je serai dans votre dette!- The Englishman offends me, Laurens! He mispronounces my name badly and corrects my grammar! English is difficult! Help me, dear Laurens, please! I will be in your debt!   
> Monsieur Laurens- Mister Laurens   
> Sept langues? Est-ce vrai?- Seven Languages? Is it true?   
> Un héro! Un héros des langues du sud!- (my translation) A hero! A southern hero of languages!   
> Un héro! Un héros des langues du sud!- (Google Translate) A hero! A hero of southern languages!   
> Merci- Thank you


	15. Dead and Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John can be himself. John Laurens is dead in South Carolina, but he is very much alive, more than he has ever been in his whole life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for 100 followers on Tumblr! I'm currently working on a bigger gift for everyone but it's taking a while, so have this!   
> Comments are very much appreciated. I like hearing your opinions and your criticism of my writing. Of course, Kudos are also appreciated, but not as much as comments. 
> 
> As usual, French translations are in the endnotes!
> 
> Nathan Hale goes by the alias of Nathaniel Brunswick as I could not find a true alias he used historically. I made one up, much like the name of Jack Manning for Laurens. ;)

_Dr. Sirs,_  
 _I would like to express my dearest gratitude for your warning of who your spies were so that I may keep them safe from any harm. I also am grateful for the warning of an impending attack, which I skillfully managed to play into and surrendered my current ship's valuables to your own. I am very pleased to say that I will be switching to another ship once we land in the port of Charleston, which I am sure is familiar to one of the men reading this. This ship is of higher importance and I will be able to relay much more information to you all. The name of the ship is_ York City the Second _. The first, might I remind you, was destroyed, set aflame, and sunk by your crew and Rangers._  
 _Inform mister Manning that I will give his father my condolences and claim that he was killed after trying to escape. A worthy claim, as many of the men, on_ Philadelphia _, suspects he jumped overboard and drowned anyway. After all, only Culper and I know of the true story as well as the story of how the schoolteacher, Nathaniel Brunswick, escaped. Your Jack Manning shall remain hidden and presumed dead to be safe._  
 _In other topics, my apologies for the mess that was dealing with Benedict Arnold. I hear his wife is in a stage of madness and grieving after his death, and I will apologize on my own the day that I meet her in person. Give my congratulations to the men who killed him, as your Manning informed me that the mermaids did so. I am eternally grateful._  
 _After I am gone from this blasted ship called_ Monmouth _, you have my permission to sink it. After it departs Charleston, it will be searching southward, your direction directly, and I suspect it will take no longer than a month to reach you. Enclosed is a number of the weapons and power of the ship, which I suspect you, Bolton, to take advantage of. Destroy the bastard tory ship for me. It is hell on the open seas._  
 _Truly, my friends, I wish you luck and good health in all your days. Vive la liberté._  
 _Major John Anderson._

They set sail in two days, and John will leave behind Frances with Lady Washington, who he trusts wholeheartedly to take care of her. As he spends more time with his daughter, he sees her learning and smiling and much happier than she was at Mepkin. He is pleased with her progress. His father believes him dead, his daughter is safe and happy, and Alexander Hamilton gives him kisses nearly every day now. 

The new ally has been announced to the small company of the _Yorktown_ by this time. Word of Anderson's letters being Andre's letters have spread like wildfire, and it was very hard to remind people that it was not supposed to reach the public. The people that were allowed to know directly the content of Andre's letters were Washington, Tallmadge, the aides, Laurens, Lafayette, and the Queen's Rangers. Simcoe was very pleased to hear that Andre was aware of their sinking of the _York City_ , even if Tallmadge had had to send Andre a letter telling him of their Rangers. Andre's compliments were always very appreciated. 

Washington had seen that spirits were a little low after the death of Arnold among his old troops, and he had decided to have a celebration under the idea that it was going to be the United Island's Independence Day soon, but it was truly a celebration of their new ally, John Andre. Whiskey and wines and other alcoholic drinks had been arranged for the party, which was to be held in the town square on the largest of the United Islands (which were still unnamed [Tallmadge was determined to fix that soon]) and near the shore and docks so that the mermaids could join in. The party was for anyone willing to attend, although the children were told to stay with Lady Washington and a few other women instead of joining the alcohol-filled humor. There was bound to be loads of inappropriate jokes and such that none of the families wanted their children involved in. Frances was among these. 

John had decided he was going to join and in the hour before as they were setting things up, John arranging things on the docks (streamers, lights, the works), he was beginning to feel the excitement of his first real, non-Carolinian party building inside of him. His old self who was trapped in the colonies was dead. He was a new man now. 

It had finally struck him after roughly two and a half weeks from his capture and joining of their forces, the Continental Navy, and he was slightly ashamed that it hadn't hit him sooner. He was a soldier. A fighter. He was protecting countless lives and freedoms that would surely be killed or enslaved if the British won this war and found their islands. John Laurens, a man who went by the alias of Jack Manning to the lobsterbacks of the king, was a lover and a fighter and a father and a new man who could live the way he chose. 

John Laurens, a free man, forever and always. He was not afraid. He would hang from the gallows in London before King George himself for being himself in the name of freedom and love if it meant protection for these islands. He would serve with his life. 

"Hey! Jack!" 

The familiar sound of flapping wings became apparent and John looked up to see a brightly colored avien smiling and him. He held something in his hands that was wrapped carefully in paper and string, almost like a gift. It was Robert Hanson Harrison, dressed in an indigo-colored vest and a green riband across that, both over his usual long-sleeved shirt despite the warm weather. He was dressed for the occasion, the party that night. John wasn't sure how he managed to get his wings through the clothes. 

"The other aides and I decided it was about time you became an official part of the crew. Everyone has a green sash and a form of blue on them, but you didn't yet. Welcome to the team," Harrison held the package out. "Everyone wants you to wear it tonight. If it doesn't fit, Hercules can tailor it."

He continued talking as John opened it to find a regal indigo coat and green sash, just like Harrison's. He handed the paper and coat back on him, immediately rushing to secure the sash around his tan waistcoat and then grabbing the coat again to try it on. It fit like a perfectly tailored suit. The coat was brilliant in the sun and it reminded him of the deep water he had been on not long ago and was bound to return to, but it was not scary. In fact, this color fit right in and it made him feel strong, confident, and calm. The green was dark and he could think of no good comparison for it other than just the color emerald; it had a similar effect to the indigo coat. 

Harrison was smiling and holding the paper in his hands, still. "Do you like it? He looks good on you!" 

John was speechless, so he just nodded. He wanted to say 'thank you' a million times. He was a part of their family now. A true family, not like the one he was a part of in his father's house. He was a new man. 

"We should get you some epaulets, too, and a new hat and the other essentials, but I thought that might be too much at once." Harrison wore a single gold epaulet on his left shoulder, John recognized now. The word had not been coming to his mind until Harrison mentioned it. 

"It's perfect." 

They both spun around to a voice in the water. Red hair and blue eyes and a face covered in stars, Alexander was smiling at them. He bore his own kind of clothes, surely waterproof, and it looked strange to see. A white shirt and blue vest and green sash, much like Harrison, and his fit just as snugly as John suspected his own uniform fit. He donned a similar epaulet to Harrison. John had never seen Alex wear any sort of clothing before now except the day they first met he was wearing a bag over his shoulder. He thought the blue complimented the colors of his eyes and wished he would wear this more often. 

"See, even our dear lion thinks you look good! Once you're done here, I recommend you go find Fitz or me. We'll find you a sword and epaulets," Harrison suggested and took to the air after a few steps away. 

John turned back to Alex. "You really like it?" 

"Of course. The blue compliments your eyes," Alex pointed out and John blushed. He went on, "We were thinking a lighter blue better for the uniforms, but indigo is easier to keep dark after you dye things, so we kept it indigo. A Carolina crop, isn't it?" John nodded. "Well, indigo and navy and the blue Lafayette pointed out are all being considered for the flags we want for the islands. Of course, a name is a top priority, but the flag comes afterward. You should input your opinion to Washington." 

"The United Unnamed Islands isn't good enough?" John smiled and offered the joke. 

Alexander shook his head with a laugh. "No, too many vowels! Washington thinks something along with the idea of United, though. You could still help produce ideas." 

"I could?" 

"You could." 

"I'm allowed to?" 

"You're an aide like the rest of us, now. Of course. You may be just an honorary family member now, but that's only because Washington doesn't want to disgrace others by promoting you too early. I can assure you, he is very pleased to have another son on his team," Alexander laughed to himself and John smiled at the sweet sound. 

"An adopted son of the leader of a new country. A true honor, sir," John stood straight, tall, and proud and puffed his chest out. 

Alexander laughed harder at this display, as he could clearly see that it was a joke. An attempt to make his partner laugh and poke fun at his new position without insulting or mocking his rank; he was successful. 

"Are you two done yet?" Simcoe appeared nearby, dressed in shining white armor and his usual mask, but now he was donning a coat similar to the color of the aides' ribands. It looked strange on him, but also somehow fitting. His too-light eyes sparkled and contrasted the dark green significantly. 

"Quite close, Cap'n Simcoe!" John smiled and saluted mockingly, putting on a playful air that made Simcoe even have a glint of happiness in his own eyes. He'd been much more lighthearted since Hewlett had returned. 

"Well hurry up, please. I would prefer you not say my name in that ridiculous accent, though. You are a southern gentleman, not an illiterate from Jersey or some similar place," he rolled his eyes. 

"You insult people from Jersey, sir!?" John gasped in mock offense. Alexander was hiding his smile behind his webbed hands. 

"I very well do! If you wish to argue on it, I have no time now, but perhaps some other time," Simcoe glared at him menacingly, but John didn't back down. 

"Why not meet me in hell and then argue on it?" 

"Well, I'm not sure meeting in Jersey is a good idea, sir, what with the Captain's opinions of the state," Alexander chipped in and that brought a smile and light laughter to all of them. 

"A fine jest, Captain Simcoe, but please refrain from insulting such places. Who knows? We may lose an ally from your strong words and opinions. If you had insulted Carolina and I had a sword, I would have given you a fight, sir!" John crossed his arms and Simcoe raised his hands in surrender. 

"You have given me a fine dressing down, Laurens, no need to continue. I will hold my tongue next time." 

"I'll see you both tonight, I presume?" 

"Yes, Leuitenent, as Hewlett badgered me to attend and I was required to by Washington himself. He claims he wants to reward my Ranger's efforts in taking down Arnold." 

Alexander made a face. "Untrue! I would know. I helped too." 

"Fine, you caught me! Hewlett is the only reason I'm going. He's very persuading," he chuckled. Simcoe started to leave the pair. 

"See you tonight, Simcoe." 

He waved goodbye and with a glint of sunlight against his armor, Simcoe disappeared. 

"You truly do look lovely in that uniform," Alex complimented him yet again and fiddled with the bottom of his own vest. 

"Thank you. I'll see you tonight. I should probably go find the others and get all my other essentials," John said and as much as he hated to leave Alex's sweet company, he had to excuse himself before the night's ball to get properly prepared. 

"Yeah. I'll see you tonight. Don't ruin your uniform, lieutenant," he warned with a soft smile. 

John set off with a quiet wave. 

 

 

"Laurens! You look dashing!" Meade clapped his hands together and looked pleased to see John. "You'll surely give the ladies a shock tonight. Just don't take all the attention from us." He was clearly joking, but it still made John shift uncomfortably. 

"Kidder, how do you know he swings that way?" Harrison asked from the background of the shop that John had found them in. A cozy place filled with fabrics and papers and undoubtedly the home of a few of the aides. A storehouse turned home. John still felt obligated to call it a shop, though. 

Meade spun around to address the other who was adjusting his uniform and feathers in the mirror. "Well he married a lady, didn't he?" 

"Compulsive heterosexuality." Harrison spun around to glare at him. 

"It wasn't my choice, anyway. One drunken night and marriage of pity, not to mention everyone had been breathing down my neck and asking why I wasn't married yet," John corrected quietly. "I considered her a friend, but y'know... Bad choices." 

"See? Hold your tongue next time, Kidder. He may find someone better than the one he was obligated to marry." 

"It was only a jest!" 

"You sound very English when you call it that." 

"Gentlemen, please stop your bickering. Tench is trying to sleep," Fitzgerald appeared from a hallway holding a number of things John suspected were for him. 

"Mere hours before a party!?" Meade squawked. 

"If you intend for him to stay up all night, he may as well sleep now. Besides, it only takes him minutes to get ready. The worst part will be his hair," Fitz corrected and laid all the things he had held in his arms out on a table. 

"Kidder, please keep your voice down at least in respect for our own ears," Harrison warned and grabbed a belt- a sword belt- from the stool beside the mirror. He carefully put it on and posed, smiling at himself. The shiny bronze stood out against the colorful wings and coat he had. 

"Fine fine! The focus is on Jack anyway. What've you got for us, Fitz?" Meade waved his hand as if dismissing Harrison's words. The action was met with a displeased huff. 

"Not for you, Rich. For Jack," Fitzgerald waved John over to look at the assortment. "Sword and its proper belt, hat, epaulets, cockade... What else do you need?" 

"You would know better than I would." 

Meade stepped closer to the pair. "He gets two epaulets and the rest of us only one?" 

Fitz jumped and lightly shoved him away. "They look different! I wanted to see which would compliment his uniform! Dick off elsewhere!" 

Harrison burst into a fit of giggles and dropped his hat. 

"Oh, yes, laugh at my expense! All you heard was Fitz telling me to dick off! You have no context, therefore you have no right to laugh!" Meade rolled his eyes and pointed at Harrison. 

"Oh, my apologies, I thought I was allowed to have fun!" Harrison rolled his eyes and picked his hat up to try it on again. 

"Not in this household, Robbie," Fitz mumbled and helped John put on the swordbelt (withholding the sword for the moment). 

The rest of the time trying on different things was smooth and quiet, but still fun. Tench woke up and got dressed in his own uniform, and when they were all done, they matched wonderfully well. John was pleased to have a sword and to look like he fit in. 

"A truly beautiful group we make," Meade lead them outside toward the General's home where they had agreed to meet before they set off to the party. 

"Yes, a truly colorful group," Harrison agreed and took a few exciting steps forwards, overcoming Meade at the front of the line. 

"Is Alexander going to join us?" Tilghman asked John. 

"Yes. He and Simcoe will be at the party tonight. To my knowledge, all the Rangers will be attending as well," John supplied. 

"Not all," Tilghman corrected and his expression was stoic and held sympathy. 

John was curious. "Explain?" 

"Beckett. Colonel Beckett. He's one of the Rangers. They sent him on a solo scouting mission last month, just before you arrived. He hasn't been seen or heard from since he left, and the Rangers are worried about him. Beckett's disappearance has also made some of them on edge." 

"...Oh." 

"On the bright side, since Captain Simcoe took over, there's been less trouble with the Rangers." 

"Who used to lead them?" 

"Robert sonuvabitch Rogers. He was a damn awful leader and the last straw is when he started to abuse his power over the boys and abuse them, too. He couldn't handle the stress, or at least that's what McHenry said. He essentially went crazy and we cast him out and put Simcoe in his place instead. Lord knows Simcoe needed the support of the Rangers," Tilghman mumbled instead of spoke. "Nobody's seen Robert Rogers in a while, either. Maybe Beckett went to find him? I'm not sure. Nobody is. All we know is that Simcoe has been the leader for months now and Beckett went missing. Everything else is fine." 

"I hate sharing my name with that bastard," Harrison growled. He'd been listening. 

"That's why we call you Robbie and we call him a son of a bitch," Fitz joked and Harrison smiled. 

"We're here, gents," Meade stated the obvious as they approached the front door of the house. It was hidden in the trees and if he hadn't been lead there, John wouldn't know where the house was. That might've been the point. 

Lady Washington opened the door before Meade could knock and she smiled brightly. She still had that motherly feeling surrounding her that John had felt on the ship. He trusted her. "Come in, dears, come in! You all look so handsome!" Martha said and opened the door. She was short and had a light, calm voice, but based on what John had been told about Lady Washington, she could be fearsome. 

"Thank you, Missus Washington," Tilghman thanked her with a smile and she beamed right back. 

"My husband will be down shortly! Make yourselves comfortable!" Lady Washington invited and they all found a place in the front room. They spoke amongst themselves for a short time before the sound of heavy footsteps came closer from the short hallway and all the aides jumped to their feet. 

The leader, General or Captain or Admiral or whatever you call him, of the Continental Navy, stood at the entrance to the room, his hat in his hands. His uniform was similar to the ones the aides wore themselves, but he donned a light blue riband across his chest and two epaulets, each with three stars, on his shoulders. His hair was done back in a braid and still, he looked fearsome (more than Martha herself, but that wasn't saying much at the moment). 

"Gentlemen, are we ready?" He asked and twisted the hat in his hands as he looked around the room at his aides, almost all of them, standing at attention. He was met with 'yessir's. 

"George, please remember to relax for a night. Your hair is going gray from stress. You must try to let go of responsibility, at least for a night. And don't leave without giving me a kiss!" Martha promptly reminded and Harrison whispered something to Tilghman, which prompted them both to snicker. 

Washington smiled tenderly at his wife and nodded. "Of course. I'll not return with my work as I usually do." 

"Thank you," Martha smiled back and grabbed the lapels of his uniform, pulling him down into a kiss. Such a tall man, roughly six foot four, compared to a woman who was maybe five foot two was a strange sight, and amusing to see the former being pushed around by the latter. Well, not pushed around, per se, but rather encouraged or influenced by, in a way. "Stay safe." 

"I promise. I love you, Martha," Washington didn't hold back such private sentiments in the presence of his aides and by God, John wished he was brave enough to tell Alex that when people were around. 

"And you know I love you, too. Now go have fun. And boys, if you see him stressing too much, please help him slow down and stop worrying," Lady Washington turned to the men and told him as a sort of command. 

"Of course they will. Stay safe, dear." 

 

 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, a toast to the mighty Continentals that bring us liberty and freedom to be ourselves! Whether they be part of the Navy, Rangers, or a solo helper to our cause, without them, we would be hanged by our necks and back in the captivity of King George just for being who we are!" A man John didn't recognize raised his glass high over his head as he stood on a soapbox and everyone cheered as he finished his toast. The glass of strong wine in John's possession was getting drained slowly after each toast, sip by sip. 

Another man jumped onto the place beside him. "And a toast to the Rangers themselves for bringing down the traitorous scum that was Benedict Arnold!" That was met with cheers and a grunt from the water near John's seat on the dock. He had placed a chair there to be near Alexander and away from the fray of the party since it had gotten louder and rowdier. Clearly, his Hamilton had something to say on this new subject. 

"You feel like you're not being given enough credit?" John asked. It made sense. 

"Yes. You hit the nail on the head, Jack," Alex smiled and sipped from his glass. His words were met with an appreciative expression. John preferred not being called his Christian name, and it made sense. John Laurens was a dead man among his family and the colonies, and he saw that name go with it. John Jack Laurens was a man reborn. 

"Well, I usually like to learn why people are upset. Especially the people I intend to spend a lot of time with," he watched the aides all laugh together and obviously that was a mistake because Tilghman spotted him and started to march the others over to him. 

"Dear Jack, why are you sitting here all alone?" Meade chuckled drunkenly to himself and leaned heavily on Harrison. In his haze, he didn't see Alex in the water, despite the merman's glowing eyes. They shone like little blue stars in the dark night. The moon was in its darkest phase now. 

"I do not sit alone, dear Kidder, as I am in perfectly fine company with Alexander," John shot back and sipped his wine. 

"Ah! I just have the loveliest idea! Everyone else does not know of our new dear brother, so why not announce his inclusion here where the entire town will learn?" Tilghman tugged John up out of his chair into a strange side-hug. Alex was chuckling now. 

"I don't think--" 

"Nonsense, Laurens, you must let us show you off!" Tilghman had already started to parade the aides, pulling John by his shoulders, toward the soapbox set up nearby. Many had been making toasts and speeches from this place all night. 

They shoved their way through the crowd and when a drunken avien was done giving their speech, Tilghman and Harrison pulled John up onto the soapbox which could hardly fit them all. They were laughing and just the sight of the aides made some people cheer. 

"Dearest friends, I'm not sure if any of you are aware, but we have received a new volunteer aide on our staff recently, and we thought to tell you all now. He's the son of Henry Laurens himself, and he is come to help us all in our grand fight against the British lobsterbacks!" Meade announced in a booming voice as he circled the soapbox. Many people were cheering now. Fitzgerald was leaning on McHenry, laughing hysterically at John's face, which was bright red and _dear_ _God_ he was uncomfortable up here. "But he needs no introduction, despite how we may give him such a glorious one! Ladies and Gentlemen, our newest navy brother, John Laurens of South Carolina!" 

Meade had no caught onto the fact that John didn't like to be called by his Christian name or to be reminded of his origins. His hat had fallen off somewhere along the way, he now realized and standing on the soapbox with Tench Tilghman and Robert Hanson Harrison was not helping the red on his face. He was embarrassed and on his way to getting drunk, and with all these people looking at him and now knowing about him to a certain degree he didn't like, his face was an impossible shade, he was sure. Spinning himself around on the soapbox, he caught a glance of Jefferson's face, which was smug and he looked to be pleased with the way John was uncomfortable. 

"Speech! Speech, dear Laurens, speech!" Fitzgerald cried and the other two aides jumped from the high ground as more began chanting for a speech. 

"Okay!" John gave in and his voice silenced everyone. "Okay, here's my speech." 

_Deep breaths._

_In, out. In, out._

_Open your eyes._

He did, and there, right there, he saw Alexander's blue eyes shining right back. They filled him with a new sense of confidence and determination and he could see that there, right there, Alexander was encouraging him to give a speech. 

"When I was welcomed by Nathan Hale, yes, you," he pointed to Nathan, who was standing with Benjamin and listening intently, "When I was told I could go to a place where I could be myself without any ties to my past and I could be me, I didn't think he was being honest. He welcomed me, though, once I confessed that I wanted to be me, and that included being with men like me instead of my wife, Martha. Nathan said that if I helped him deliver important intelligence to his navy, they would surely welcome me just as he had. I took this intelligence, nearly died bringing it to the dear, ragged continentals aboard Yorktown, and sure enough, I have been accepted. 

I want to thank you all because, by God, I've never been so happy. I've never been so... me. I finally have a family and I can be me without my past and old life holding me down. I can sail and live and accomplish my dreams. I can be Jack Laurens now. So thank you all so very much. Cheers!" 

John upended his drink and finished the wine left in his glass as cheers erupted around him. He was pulled down from the soapbox and into the arms of Nathan and the aides, who all embraced him in a tight hug. They were saying things like 'I never knew' and 'fine speech, Jack'. 

John had never felt so at home. 

He returned to his seat with Alexander, except now the aides stayed with him. 

"Fine speech, Laurens!" Fitzgerald leaned heavily on him as John tried to compensate and not fall into the water. 

"Careful, dear Fitz or Jack will fall and get himself wet and sick! You wouldn't want that, would you?" Meade bellowed a laugh beside McHenry. 

"Ah, he wouldn't get sick!" 

"Truly, you wish to find out?" McHenry rolled his eyes. 

"Laurens, do tell me if you get sick," Meade smiled devilishly. 

"Wait, NO!" Alex's objection was drowned out as Meade shoved John backward into the water and nearly on top of the merman himself. 

John refrained from kicking his boots off, resisting all of his instincts. He was certain that Alexander would save him, and that he did. The merman grabbed him by the waist and pressed a deep kiss to John's lips, not only for the purpose of keeping him alive, but John was his partner of a sort, now, and he wanted to kiss the handsome man as often as he could. John didn't thrash, he didn't open his eyes, he just melted into it. Bubbles poured from his nose and mouth when they pulled away and Alex pulled him back up to the surface of the water. 

"He is well!" Harrison cheered, using this as an excuse to down more of his wine. 

"Yes, but for how long? He may be sick!" McHenry objected. 

"No no no... Dear James, I shall show you that you are wrong!" Harrison shook his head and set his glass down. Before anyone could inquire as to how he intended to do this, Robert had jumped into the water alongside the men. He quickly transitioned to floating on his back by use of his wings, which were surprisingly not dragging him down. 

McHenry could only stand by and watch as the men jumped in, one by one, which caught the attention of the rest of the partygoers. Soon, the harbor was teeming with people, mermaids and drunkards and centaurs, and all the varieties of men and women and in between. Those who needed help were assisted by the mermaids themselves. 

Alexander turned to John with a bright smile. "I hope you won't be sick." 

"Of course not!" John shook his head. 

"I sincerely hope you're right," Alex rolled his eyes and delivered a kiss to John's cheek. 

Yes. He was a new man. John Jack Laurens was a soldier and a lover and a father, and he was going to do whatever he had to do to accomplish all of those the right way. 

 

 _Dr. Sirs,_  
 _Henry Laurens did not take well to the death of his son, John. He is inconsolable, but not because of losing John himself, strangely. Instead, he is concerned about how he has now lost many connections and how ridiculous the death of his son was. To quote, "A son that swims strong but runs out of energy and drowns instead of floating and awaiting help! How reflective of my son's character". Inform mister Manning, please, that I am on his side and absolutely find his father a rather stale and revolting person to be around. His siblings, on the other hand, are much nicer, and when I informed them of Jack's survival, just as you stated in your previous letter to do, they looked pleased and said they would find a way to join him soon. I think another few faking of deaths is in order._  
 _In other news, I have now boarded_ York the second _and I would be most pleased to learn soon that you have sunk_ Monmouth _. This new ship is much easier to sneak around on and send my letters out on, thank the Lord. I have found that Culper has followed me and to avoid exposing his spying ways, I have decided to treat him equal to the others, may you be aware if he sends a rather nasty report._  
 _Congratulations to you, Mister Bolton, as well, for your arranged marriage. I wish you both a long and happy life together, and if I may be allowed to after the conclusion of this blasted naval war, I would like to request to be invited to the marriage of you and your Brunswick. Of course, I do not mean to say that I am pushing myself on you, but I would like to inquire if I could possibly be invited. I do, however, remember that you did not wish to be married until the end of the war for the purposes of actually having time to relax together afterward, and I respect such an idea._  
 _Inform Captain Hamilton and your Rangers as well that the British have taken wind as to the existence of mermaids and have placed bounties on them. Please remain cautious! I helped a merman recently escape Charleston captivity and he is on his way to return to you._  
 _My best of luck, dear gentlemen,_  
 _Major John Anderson_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French Translations:   
> Vive la liberté - Long Live Freedom 
> 
> Other Meanings:   
> Dr. - Dear   
> Jack Manning - John Laurens   
> Nathaniel Brunswick - Nathan Hale   
> John Bolton - Benjamin Tallmadge   
> John Anderson - John Andre   
> Samuel Culper - Spy, Abraham Woodhull   
> Samuel Culper Junior - Spy, Robert Townsend   
> Mermaids - Any term referring to mer-people, whether it be man or woman or otherwise. It doesn't matter if they're all males or not, the plural is always mermaids.   
> Epaulets - The badges/shoulder patches that soldiers wore to determine their ranks   
> Ribands - Sashes soldiers and ranking officers wore to determine their ranks   
> Cockades - Folded pieces of colored fabric attached to hats to help officers determine their ranks


	16. The Prelude of Monmouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaining troops and spreading rumors has never been quite so easy.   
> Lee finds it difficult to accept his position to lead the charge against Monmouth.   
> A cluster of things that will be important later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the support on this story! As usual, I appreciate all the kudos and comments and I love to hear from you all, whether it be corrections I should make or ideas or whatever else, Please Comment! 
> 
> Apologies if this chapter seems rushed! I had to turn my computer into the school (yes I write on my school computer) on the fifth of June, which, as I'm writing this, is tomorrow. No wonder I'm trying to crank this out fast. 
> 
> French Translations and Additional notes at the end!

He stood on the port side bow of the ship, waving to the people as _Yorktown_ , _Setauket_ , and _Saratoga_ set out to capture _Monmouth_. The three best warships for taking on the one that Andre had advised them to destroy, but it was still under careful consideration if they should capture or destroy the ship the British had. Taking the lobsterbacks by surprise was key. They had no idea they were coming. 

As _Yorktown_ started to lead the three ships out of the harbor, John looked down into the water and saw the mermaids jumping up alongside the ship and in its wake. Alexander had been told to scout out their path and see where _Monmouth_ was now and if they needed to prepare for battle soon. He had thrown off his blue coat and shirt, kept his sword, and set off with a proud flick to his tailfins. Simcoe and his Rangers swam in the shadows of these big warships, only occasionally coming up to breath. The telltale sign was a blinding glint of light from their masks and armor. 

Jack Laurens was off to his first battle. 

 

The normal sleeping quarters for the crew was surprisingly not much different from the brig he'd been locked in. It was higher in the ship, but still full of a few tables and benches (these ones were bolted down to the floor) and especially hammocks. Walking through this area to find a spot to stay was hard. Many places were taken up already. 

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" A familiar voice asked and John spun around to see Lafayette standing at the door. 

"Looking for a bed. It's nearly bedtime, isn't it?" He wondered if he'd made a mistake. 

"You have made a mistake, mon aide amical," Lafayette smiled and shook his head. "You stay in the rear of the ship! With the other aides and Monsieur Benjamin." He pointed toward the back of the ship. 

"I stay in the aft?" John clarified and started to follow his direction. There was a door in the darkness he hadn't noticed, and he was certain it was meant to be that way. 

"Oui!" 

He opened the door and they stepped inside. It was a small area with actual beds bolted to the ground and desks and benches and surprisingly, there was a staircase near the back of the room. 

"Where does that go?" John pointed to it as he picked an empty bed and Lafayette picked up the lid of the bench, which was hollow and like a chest, it could be used for storing things. There was ink and quills and parchment inside, but John was able to fit the few things he had (not including his guitar, which he had decided to bring but left in the cargo hold for now). 

"To His Excellency's quarters. Much easier than the maze of halls here should an emergency happen." 

"So the aides stay in here?" 

"Yes." 

"What about you?" 

"Aviens too, but I stay en un hamac Avec l'autre équipage," Lafayette informed and didn't seem to notice that he'd swapped languages (yet again) halfway through his sentence. 

"How do you keep from damaging your wings?" 

"Blankets and sleeping not on one's back," he smiled and looked pleased that John was asking questions. 

"Do the mermaids ever sleep?" 

"Yes, but the fish are different. They sleep but with one eye open, literally. The Rangers stay closer together and mon Alexander is easily wakened if he is alerted to danger. They are very unique and very cool. I am sure if Alexander could, he would stay with someone while he sleeps as well," Lafayette said and stood tall. He made various gestures with his hands and arms as he spoke, and once, John had to step back to avoid being hit in the face. He wasn't phased much by it. His little brother, James, had been similar. 

"Are we done?" 

"Do you have any more questions?" 

"Are you aware that sometimes you switch languages in the middle of what you say? I notice that it usually happens only when you're excited or happy, though," John casually pointed out, hoping not to embarrass Lafayette. It only brought a smile and a light blush to his face. 

"I am very aware. Apologies, but thank you for pointing it out." 

"What now?" 

"We await orders, meetings... We wait. Alexander's report of their locations is sure to reach up soon. For now, we wait." 

 

 

"You're awfully quiet, Charlie. Is something wrong?" Samuel Seabury walked up to the boy dressed in blue who was staring down at the water over the starboard bow of the ship. He looked lost in thought. 

"Shh!" Lee promptly shushed his boyfriend, which made Samuel stop a few steps away. 

"Wha--" 

"They're talking." Lee pressed a finger to Sam's lips. His eyes were narrowed and he looked to be in pain. His pupils were blown huge and he was shaking, Sam noted. He was very much in pain. 

"Dear Lord, what's happened?" He grabbed Lee's shoulders and squeezed. Hard. 

Lee opened his mouth but didn't speak for a long moment. He put a hand to his head and whimpered. 

"By God, Charlie, what's happening! Just tell me!" Samuel shook him and Lee pulled away to the side of the ship again. He pointed a finger in toward the horizon. 

Whales. Humpback Whales. Every time they surfaced, they blew out a huge breath and it threw mist into the air. It was one of the only ways you could see them. "They... They're screaming, Sam." 

"I thought you said they were talking?" 

"GODDAMMIT! Sam! They are never this far south! The British are _hunting_ them and wiping out their numbers, keeping other animals and mermaids as _prisoners_ on their boats, and they are _suffering_! They came south to _avoid_ the British! The _fucking_ bastard lobsters are killing them!" Lee screamed. He dropped against the edge of the ship. 

The whales swam closer. 

"The British are going to take advantage of our weakness in caring for others. Goddamn, Sammy," Lee whined and he started to cry. The water was clear once again so one could not see their reflection. Lee was grateful because he knew he was an ugly crier. 

"I'll alert someone right away," Sam kissed his forehead and, robes and all marched off. 

 

 

"Sir, _please_ understand! We cannot stand up to the men on these ships! Surrender and maybe our own will be spared!" A private was yelling at his captain and waving papers around. The man was clearly a secretary, and the captain was growing a distaste for him. 

Alexander, despite the circumstances he was stuck in, found it quite amusing. 

The scouting had gone so very wrong. He should've been more careful as Benjamin had advised. How was he to know they had nets laid in the water? So Alex laid in the sun, tied tightly in his net, aboard _Monmouth_. The men had oohed and ahhed over a merman and suspected that he wouldn't escape his net, but oh they had been so wrong. Alex tore that first rope net to shreds and was only contained when he was distracted by one lobsterback private and another wrapped tight bounds on his tail and they teamed up to take him down. Alex was just lying in the sun now, held tight by uncomfortable ropes and a safety net. Now, as the clouds drifted over them, he listened to the private argue with his captain. 

"Private Cager, I have had damn enough of you and Captain Fuck-face breathing down my neck to surrender this ship to those rebel bastards! I am the commander of this ship and I will do as I please with it!" The man shouted back at him. 

"Sir, if you would just listen to the facts, you would understand! Benedict Arnold claimed in his most recent letter that the forces Washington had were now twice what we suspected. Twice!" Private Cager pressed and followed the captain as he started away. 

"Benedict Arnold is dead! Jesus Christ! You idiot, a ridiculous excuse for a soldier! No wonder you haven't been promoted from a private! You are slow, you are defective, and you are such a waste of space that I cannot believe that I ever once loved such a ridiculous person I suspected was a woman!" The captain stomped his foot and the private seemed to shrink to half his size as he took the verbal beating. 

"HEY!" Alexander couldn't stand for seeing this treatment. If this Private Cager wanted to be a man, he was a man. If this captain wanted to tell him otherwise and abuse him for being a man, he'd have hell to pay. 

The men froze and looked over to Alex, who hadn't spoken since his capture other than growls and grunts and hisses. 

"Yes, you two! I recommend, sir, that you stop berating this private and take his advice. I may be biased, but we have received quite a few more ships and soldiers and we have been winning more battles as of late. So give this private a break, captain, and surrender your ship before either of you have to die. I'd hate to see such a strong, confident man like Private Cager here to die, but ugly scum like you, captain, I would relish the thought." Alexander's words hit a bullseye, and the private's eyes glinted with hope. With happiness. And the captain was furious. 

"Why, you low lying mother-" 

Before the captain could get too far, the private stuck out his leg and tripped him. The captain hit the deck of the ship with a heavy thump, and the private looked pleased with his new confidence. He pulled a dagger from his belt and rushed over to Alexander. 

"Thank you, sir. Thank you so much. Please help me get to your Navy," Cager said as he sawed away at the ropes and pulled the net away from Alex's skin. 

"Of course. Duck!" Alex shouted the command and Cager ducked a spyglass that the captain had thrown at him without even hesitating and asking why. Better than most British soldiers he'd seen, to be honest. 

Alex was helped to the side of the boat by Cager and the captain stumbled to his feet. 

"Remove your boots, you'll swim easier that way," Alexander advised and Cager pulled one off, which the merman grabbed and tossed in the direction of the abusive lobsterback. The second one he removed was thrown towards another redcoat that was trying to help the captain catch Cager and Alex. "Now lean back and let yourself fall!" 

The pair leaned back over the edge of the boat and fell head first into the water. When Alex breached the surface, he couldn't spot Cager. The redcoats were shouting curses from the side of the ship, but he ignored them. Where was Private Cager? 

He broke the surface with a big smile, his hair dripping with water and his cravat soggy and loose around his neck. 

Relief. Alex started leading them both south, where he knew the Continental Navy was currently, moving to meet _Monmouth_. He wrapped his arm around Cager's shoulders, hoping to drag him along, but he was met with a confused look. 

"Sir, what are you doing?" 

"Well, most humans don't swim well, so..." 

"Sir, I'm just like you," Cager laughed to himself. It was light but genuine. 

Sure enough, with a glance toward where Cager's feet should've been, there was a dark gray tail, which was hauntingly similar to a dolphin's. A merman, similar to Alexander indeed. He removed his arm. 

"Thank you for your help, though. Captain Eggerton was not kind to me. I thought I loved him, but once I realized I wanted to be a man and a soldier, he started to hate me," Cager started to explain and Alex listened on. 

"And as mermaids know..." Alex hummed. 

They repeated the words together. "A relationship that is not meant to be, you will return right back to the sea." 

As Alex thought over those words, he smiled. Mermaids who fell in love with humans usually decided to become humans themselves if they thought their love was genuine, and it was usually the ladies who fell in love with the men. However, some humans gave themselves up to be with their mermaid partner. If a relationship was poor or falling apart or no longer (a divorce is always an option), then mermaids could easily jump back to the sea and disappear from their partner, becoming mermaids once again. The same rules of the magic applied to humans. Alex had never truly seen it happen though, therefore... He thought it a myth, but not now. Cager had proven it was no myth. 

"So your name is Cager," Alex stated more than asked. 

"Nicholas Cager, sir," the man stuck his hand out and Alexander shook it. 

"Please don't call me sir. Call me Alexander. Alexander Hamilton." 

"A lovely name," Cager complimented and started to remove the shirt and coat and cravat he still bore. 

"Thank you. It wasn't my choice, but a compliment is still a compliment," he chuckled and helped Cager shed his red coat. "Also, I couldn't help but see that you had a great reaction time." 

Cager simply blushed and tried to unbutton his shirt as Alex continued. 

"You're a better soldier than some of the men and Brits I've seen. They were trained to be strong and soldiers from birth, but let me say, Cager, you're better than many of them. Fast reaction time, listening to orders without question, and you thought of a solution to a problem in seconds. I think we have a perfect place for you," Alexander spoke cheerily and rolled onto his back to float as Cager continued to strip his human outfit. He thought of how perfectly he'd fit with the Queen's Rangers. 

"You have a place for me? You're certain?" He looked happier than Alexander would've expected. 

"Of course. If you don't mind dealing with rowdy men just like you. They're bigger and scarier, but I'm sure you could fit in just right." 

Cager nodded frantically. "I'd do anything to be in a place where I can belong." 

"Then follow me, dear Nick, and we'll have you with a new family in no time at all!" 

 

 

Washington did not look pleased as he stared down at his map. Lafayette stood by his side with a nervous expression, his fingers twitching and clearly unable to keep still. He was here for emotional support for the Commander himself. 

"So you mean to tell me, Lee, that you will not lead this fight because you are afraid of wounding an animal?" Washington looked up to the scared man standing like a board in front of him. Lee was on the edge of sweating bullets. 

"Not quite, sir," he answered and his words were clipped and held fear. Deep, deep fear. He had been yelled at before and he held a deep respect for Washington, and he did not intend to be yelled at again. 

"Then why won't you lead these forces?" He stood up straight, a few inches taller than Lee and over a head taller than Seabury, who stood as Lee's own emotional support. Spado had been left outside to avoid messing up the commander's quarters, but he was clearly eager to find a way inside and politely knocked on the bottom corner of the door with his paw. It made Washington frown but made Lee more confident. 

"Sir, I have listened to the whales who have come further south than ever before, and they claim that the British are hunting them and many other animals and creatures and holding them captive on their own ships. Aviens, mermaids, centaurs, I am certain. They surely intend to take advantage of our care and affection toward these creatures and I will not be responsible for the death and wounds of many people that we are trying to protect!" Lee snapped back and leaned forward to press his words, then went right back to standing straight as a board. 

Lafayette's face went pale. He would be assigned command of this battle if Lee rejected, and he clearly had the same thoughts as the man who was, indeed, rejecting the command. 

"You expect me to trust the words of whales?" Washington looked at Lee as if he was Cerberus guarding the gates to hell, a dog with three heads. 

"Mon General, if I may, whales almost never lie. If Lee tells the truth, then it is reasonable why he is turning this down," Lafayette mumbled and Washington glared at him. The Frenchman quickly retreated to his stance of fidgeting and looking small beside such a powerful figure like his commander himself. 

"Sir, I am not going to command these men. I leave it to Lafayette. I trust these whales." 

"Fine then. Lafayette, you will command the men to fight and destroy _Monmouth_ , taking whatever prisoners you can," the commander waved Lee away and he started towards the door, but that's when Lafayette spoke up. 

"Mon General, I trust Lee's words, and I will not fight either," he said and received another glare for his words. He stood his ground this time. 

"Tallmadge will take the position then." 

Ben looked up from where he was seated, writing a letter in response to John Andre, and looked confused hearing his name. He hadn't been listening to the entire conversation, but he caught the gist of it and the last words from Washington. "With all due respect, sir--" 

"DAMMIT! Is there no trustworthy man that can take command of my navy and lead them!?" Washington lost it and the room seemed to shake with the sound of his voice. Sam and Lee and Lafayette all cowered in fear from their general's explosive outburst. 

The only noise afterward was Spado's scratching at the door. 

Lafayette was the next one to speak. 

"Monsieur Laurens," is all he said. 

"John Laurens has not been part of our force long enough to be trusted with such a command, especially of our strongest ships--" Washington began to excuse the idea, but Tallmadge interrupted. 

"He's been automatically moved to your staff, if only as a volunteer, trusted with confidential information, given the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, and pledged his allegiance to the people of the islands and directly said he is not the man of the colonies anymore, sir. I think he the best man to take the command. If Lee and Lafayette and many of your trusted commanders will not take up the sword, then your most patriotic man will. Laurens is more than fit to do the job, all you need is to give him the chance," Tallmadge explained and got to his feet, staring Washington directly in the eye. The Commander-in-Chief was not pleased with Ben's speech. 

Washington's words were spoken for him before he had to open his mouth. Ben started towards the door. Once he was gone, Washington turned to Lafayette and looked confused with him. Lee and Seabury followed Ben's lead and Spado was happy to see his friend again. 

"Do you trust Laurens?" 

"With my life, sir." 

"I will consider this idea. Why didn't you take the command?" Washington went back to looking at his map and the letters - ideas - written out with different battle plans. 

"All the plans we currently have, the British can use against us. It can backfire. If we try any of them, the prisoners could suffer," Lafayette pointed out and looked worried. His wings were drooped against his back and he moved a hand to his hair, ruffling the already messy locks. Strawberry blond didn't look as good when Lafayette's face was pale and scared. 

Washington straightened his posture. "Ask him if he's up for the task and report back to me. If he is, I'll conduct a meeting tomorrow for more strategies." 

 

 

There was a sharp whistle that sounded vaguely familiar. Harrison stumbled up from his place in the crow's nest where he'd been dozing off. Meade startled awake beside him as well. The pair looked over the water and horizon for the source. 

Another piercing whistle sounded from the port side of _Yorktown_. There was confusion on deck and some of the crew looked up to see what the two aviens had to say from their vantage point. Others rushed to the side of the ship to see what was going on, too. 

On the third whistle, Harrison spotted it. 

"There! It's Alex! And... someone else?" He jumped to the railing and held onto a rope for balance. His wings, thankfully, didn't catch the breeze that whisked by. 

Meade tugged a spyglass from his belt and looked through to the direction Harrison was pointing. "You're right. What has he found?" He pocketed the spyglass and jumped the rail. As he fell towards the dock, he spread his wings and let them catch him. A lovely way to use the phrase 'falling gracefully'. 

He let the wind carry him out to where the two mermaids swam. The man Meade couldn't name looked more like a boy than a man, but he didn't question it. 

"Alexander, have you brought friend or Foe?" He called out as he circled the pair. The tips of his wings caught the surface of the water, but the water slipped right off. 

"Friend, dear Kidder! A man interested in joining our finest Rangers!" Alexander cheerily waved to him and gestured to Cager. 

"The Rangers? You've found a merman on a recon mission!?" He fluttered higher from the water in surprise. 

"Certainly, Kidder! Tell the others to gather! I have a friend for them to meet!" Alexander called and started to lead Cager towards the trio of ships nearby. Meade fluttered ahead to tell everyone what had happened. 

He let out a high-pitched whistle to which the Rangers reacted and appeared at the surface in a cluster, bright masked dripping with water and glimmering in the still-bright sun. The crew all shuffled into a group around the starboard bow. The aviens were flying around the railings and ropes and crow's nest now. Harrison had a bright smile on as he saw them all gathering. 

"Ladies and gents, Hamilton has a new friend to introduce us to!" Meade announced and landed on the edge of the ship, almost falling backward if Tilghman hadn't caught him. 

Alex pushed through the Rangers and grinned at the faces above and around him. Cager held his blank expression. "May I introduce, Private Nicholas Cager, who helped me escape British capture aboard Monmouth. He's willing to join the Rangers under Simcoe and Washington's respective permissions, and if not that, then he's willing to become a spy or a scout," he called in a loud voice so that all could hear him, even on other boats. Tallmadge was watching and smiling at them. Simcoe was also watching from the back of his group of Rangers. 

"Who is this Cager?" One of the Rangers swam up to look at him. "He's no orca..." It was Benjamin Benning, a small but very clever merman who was colorblind. 

"He's not even a man!" Another Ranger, James Wemyss (pronounced We-mice), pointed out and poked Cager's side with the blunt side of his knife. 

"We don't discriminate here, Jamey," Christopher French pointed out and tightened the mask on his own face. 

Jacob Ashley spoke up next. "How do we know she's strong enough though?" 

"HE! Jesus fuck, Jake, don't you listen? He's a self-declared man! Anatomy doesn't matter!" Jack West rolled his own eyes in response and smacked him at the back of the head with his spyglass. 

The crew on the ships just watched helplessly. 

"What does the captain think? Don't any of you think of that first?" Gabriel Arbor, Simcoe's right-hand man, snapped and the men were quiet. The place got quiet. 

Simcoe looked up at the crew and saw Washington's face looking right back at him with an expression that said 'your choice'. Simcoe looked back at his men and smiled, which looked grim under the shadow of his mask. 

"Nicholas Cager, we'd be happy to invite you to the family. Rangers, there won't be any question about this! Cager is willing to fight, so he will fight! I want no more arguing!" He shouted and all the mermaids straightened their posture and disappeared with Cager below the surface again. 

The crew dispersed again, but Lafayette pulled Laurens aside for a moment. 

"I need a word." 

"What word?" 

"Non, wrong phrase. Listen." Lafayette shook his head and lowered his voice. "General Washington intends to give you command of the fleet if you will attack Monmouth with it. There are risks, though, and we are not sure if it is totally safe and that nobody of ours will get hurt. No one else wants the command." 

John's face lit up. Command so soon? Perfect. Honor. Glory. He was a phoenix, a man reborn, and he was moving up, certainly. "Really!?" 

"Report to the General tomorrow morning, bright and early. He wishes to have a meeting and ask for your opinion in the matter of battle. Good luck, mon grande lion!" 

A kiss on the cheek and Lafayette took to the air, undoubtedly off to discuss with the others about Cager, the newest recruit. 

If all recruits came this easy, soon the British would be quaking in their shoes at the sight of such a large army. And maybe the Continentals would need more islands... 

For now, they rest easy. For now. 

 

 

_John Anderson,_   
_Plans are underway. Your advice is being taken into account, as well as other intelligence I have received. May God be with us both. I have nothing more to say other than stay safe, and I have very little time to respond to you, therefore, you are given this rushed and short letter. Send back a report on our spies, please, sir. When you have the time, sir, please reply. My stress and worry grows great as time crawls on._   
_I place faith in you, sir, please be well,_   
_John Bolton._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra Notes: Charles Lee is not an asshole... sometimes. 
> 
> French Translations:   
> Mon aide amical - My aide friend / My friendly help (the latter being according to Google translate but honestly who needs them?)   
> Oui - Yes  
> En un hamac Avec l'autre équipage - In a hammock with the other crew  
> Mon General - My General   
> Mon Grande Lion - My big lion 
> 
> Extra Meanings:   
> Yorktown - The largest and most important ship in the possession of the Continental Navy   
> Setauket - A stolen British warship, heavily armored and commanded by Major Edmund Hewlett   
> Saratoga - Commanded by Horatio Gates, it's a decoy ship, small and used mostly for scouting. It is this ship that alerts the others if the British ships are getting too near to the islands and to attack them. It's too small for long voyages. Gates has been known to be a coward in the past and it was decided then that he would stay with Saratoga and do patrols often; he fits his new role well   
> Lobsterbacks - A slur for the British, named for their bright red uniforms   
> The Aft - The stern or rear end of a ship, typically reserved for cargo   
> Captain - Among the official navy's, it's an unofficial term any officer higher than an ensign or private

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fantasy AU I began on Tumblr. I transferred it here just to make it easier for me and others. 
> 
> See my art on my Tumblr account for it.   
> https://general-wheeee.tumblr.com/post/183530231143/alexander-hamilton-from-the-fantasy-au-find-the


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